Pollyanna

Thought I'd give you guys another shot of my positive side while the getting is good.  I'm getting tired of all the smiling, and while I feel the tiniest bit better than I have in past days, it still feels like being burned alive most of the time.  And while I want to be as healthy as possible, and functioning for my family, I don't think there's anything wrong with being sad.  Really sad.  Devastated, even.  She's gone...she's really gone and it's killing me, you guys.  I can't pretend it's not.

So as much as I've enjoyed - maybe even gotten a little hooked- on all the "atta girls!" I've received over the last couple weeks or so, I've gotta go sit in my corner for awhile.  Strength is waning.  Choosing joy is not as easy as it sounds.  It's hard work.  I've been feeling a little run down since I passed that kidney stone (a must hear tale for another day), and my anxiety has been out of control for a couple days now.  Wolf Teeth (that strange phenomenon in which my teeth suddenly begin to feel too big for my mouth, which in turn freaks me out to the point that I can't sleep or stop feeling them with my tongue during the day) has descended with a vengeance.  Work is a pretty stressful place right now, but I knew there had to be more to it.  Here's what I came up with:

I recognize that I can't keep going at this "always find the silver lining" pace I've been walking, and I feel like being sad or getting depressed again is going to be a sign of weakness.  I feel like I'll be letting people down.  I feel like I'll be failing as a person...like I should be strong enough to just carry on.  Isn't that what is expected by our society?  Be strong.  Keep your chin up.  It's good to see you trying.

Talking with a friend today I realized this grief thing is not much different than a life long illness.  It will always be there.  There is no finish line.  It will wax and wane, much as Cory's illness did.  And if I always encouraged her to be honest about her symptoms, why do I feel like I have to hide my pain?  I'll show you my joy and my good days, but I shouldn't feel like I have to hide the bad ones, either.  It's part of the process.  It takes a lot of strength to look pain in the face, to sit with it and study the lines and creases in its infinitely old countenance.  It takes courage to tell others what you saw, and how you feel about it...what you're thinking...and exactly what it's like to sit alone in  that dark corner that has begun to feel strangely like home.  And that's what I want most now- to be brave like my girl.

So here's my gratitude list for the past couple of weeks: one item for each day.   Enjoy, and if I'm not super sunshiny for the next few posts, just know that's how it really is...two steps forward and one step back...forever.

I am grateful for:

• the model of marriage my parents offer
• to be alive
• my son
• the chance to educate others about living with mental illness
• David Sedaris' sense of humor and snappy prose
• Angie's friendship and quick reflexes in emergency situations
• the chance to share Cory with so many people
• feeling young and pretty today
• thinking that I heard Cory laugh today
• the day off to rest
• Jake's techie skills that got my laptop up and running with a couple of educated clicks
• the fact that Jacob finally wants to hang out with me
• chocolate
• the Gillio group on facebook
• my therapist and her help figuring out what it is I seek from Bob
• the chance to share Cory's art and mine with others
• take out and the money to buy it when cooking is just too much
• time to write
• my job
• to have found a therapist who gets it and has something to offer