I can't sleep
Cant sleep its 3am my mind is freaking out.
What is going on, what am I to do with
myself?
I feel an overwhelming dark cloud of grief and worry swirling around me.
My thoughts are of my children and their safety, how I need to keep them safe and literally cannot.
Their lives are their own and I am here as a witness.
I get to marvel in their world but it does not belong to me.
Nothing belongs to me.
My fear has got a hold of my thoughts and is twisting my perception to one of despair, anguish, anxiety and torment.
I decide to get out of bed I need to do something other than flip and flop in my sleepless state.
I sit in the shower the warm water feels soothing on my skin. I then make my way down stairs for a cup of tea and my journal.
Some how I know that I can work this out in writing.
Writing has helped in so many ways, it seems that when the thoughts are translated into words on paper I can make sense of them.
Here’s what I came up with.
I am currently going through grief, it’s a given and to be expected when losing someone special. This is something every person will go through at some point. Loss is a part of living and loving.
My daughter’s sudden death will continue to reverberate through my cells and take me when I least expect it. And it’s all-ok. It’s ok to feel venerable and weak. It’s ok to feel sorrow and heartache.
It’s ok to sit quietly in my pajamas and stare at the walls.
Its ok to feel all of it and let the emotion work its way through me.
I also understand that my new feelings of fear are directly related to feeling powerless and helpless around the death of my daughter. There was absolutely nothing I could do to make anything any different.
I couldn’t save her.
I couldn’t be there for her when she left this world.
I couldn’t tell her I loved her, wish her well, or say goodbye.
What I worked out on paper is this,
None of us know when we will take our last breath.
The thoughts that torture me are only
thoughts and the reality of the situation is I am here now.
My children are here now, they are safe now, and happy now.
They are healthy and excited about their lives.
My fear will only infect them to play it safe, to live smaller, easy, simpler lives. When in truth I want the world for them.
I want these beautiful people to know their true power and to live with all their hearts.
I want them to boldly go into the world and love every minute of their creation, no matter how long or short it may be.
I practice breathing, I sip my tea, I write to you and now I can sleep.
What is going on, what am I to do with
myself? I feel an overwhelming dark cloud of grief and worry swirling around me.
My thoughts are of my children and their safety, how I need to keep them safe and literally cannot.
Their lives are their own and I am here as a witness.
I get to marvel in their world but it does not belong to me.
Nothing belongs to me.
My fear has got a hold of my thoughts and is twisting my perception to one of despair, anguish, anxiety and torment.
I decide to get out of bed I need to do something other than flip and flop in my sleepless state.
I sit in the shower the warm water feels soothing on my skin. I then make my way down stairs for a cup of tea and my journal.
Some how I know that I can work this out in writing.
Writing has helped in so many ways, it seems that when the thoughts are translated into words on paper I can make sense of them.
Here’s what I came up with.
I am currently going through grief, it’s a given and to be expected when losing someone special. This is something every person will go through at some point. Loss is a part of living and loving.
My daughter’s sudden death will continue to reverberate through my cells and take me when I least expect it. And it’s all-ok. It’s ok to feel venerable and weak. It’s ok to feel sorrow and heartache.
It’s ok to sit quietly in my pajamas and stare at the walls.
Its ok to feel all of it and let the emotion work its way through me.
I also understand that my new feelings of fear are directly related to feeling powerless and helpless around the death of my daughter. There was absolutely nothing I could do to make anything any different.
I couldn’t save her.
I couldn’t be there for her when she left this world.
I couldn’t tell her I loved her, wish her well, or say goodbye.
What I worked out on paper is this,
None of us know when we will take our last breath.
My children are here now, they are safe now, and happy now.
They are healthy and excited about their lives.
My fear will only infect them to play it safe, to live smaller, easy, simpler lives. When in truth I want the world for them.
I want these beautiful people to know their true power and to live with all their hearts.
I want them to boldly go into the world and love every minute of their creation, no matter how long or short it may be.
I practice breathing, I sip my tea, I write to you and now I can sleep.
Dearest Sariah,
ReplyDeleteI never really know what to say to you when I read your blog, or exactly how or if I should comment. I am continually overcome with so many emotions at one time when I read your words, that formulating exactly what to say escapes me. So much of my life has been spent learning and sharing emotions and thoughts through movement, that I utterly fail when it comes to the written word. Julianna's death has rocked me to my core, and I too, have found myself occasionally sleepless at night worried about my own children. Wondering, and realizing many of the points you make here. I can not share enough comfort or consolation because it is lacking in the enormity of what you are going through. The vulnerability you share is raw and penetrating and is so incredibly brave yet not surprising, because everything about you is brave. So I sit helpless yet wanting to help. All I can do is thank you for sharing and know that there is more love for you out there than you could ever imagine.
Thank you so much Ali I almost didn’t share this one but felt it was important - I know so many people are hurting right now in this exact moment and there is something so special in this part of our humanity. It’s all apart of the same thing. Joy and sorrow are different sides of the same coin. Love u lady
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