This is the truth of being a bereaved parent: “People have asked me what’s it like to live life with a deceased child because they “just can’t fathom”… Well let me do my best to explain it in a way that can be understood.
It’s being dead but still being able to breathe, barely.
It’s like having your entire world thrown into a blender and mixed up to a liquid. Having your heart and lungs ripped out of your body so violently and never put back. Leaving a hole in your chest that will never heal and seeps pain, tears, anger, hate and regret.
It’s like living in a dream that you can never wake up from, except it’s a fucking nightmare. A life long fucking nightmare.
It’s like having a large glass jar filled with happiness and you drop it on the ground and all the happiness blows away in the wind to never return.
It’s like having a million people around hugging and loving you but you still feel completely alone. Going from having people to talk with to having not one person message or call anymore because they don’t know what to say to you … at all, about anything…
It’s standing in the kitchen cooking food for the ones still here and crying so hard you can’t see yourself burning the food.
Some days it’s falling to the floor, screaming so hard that no sound comes out and you run out of breath but don’t stop screaming until you are hyperventilating and dizzy.
It’s a million little demons battling one single tiny angel in your brain, testing to see if you’re strong enough or not to survive this.
It’s like always trying to convince yourself that people want you around even though you feel like you’re just a placement for convenience in this world and in people’s lives.
Honestly. It’s like knowing that you’re going to die eventually and embracing it with open arms like a long lost friend.
It’s like this picture below of you holding on with everything you have and feel it all melt away.
No it doesn’t get better. It doesn’t get easier. You just learn to live, to survive.” – Unknown Author
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