Maybe there is something symbolic about passing the six month mark, being a full half a year removed from the most painful moment of my life.
Maybe I've made some great emotional leaps forward in the past 30 days.
Maybe I'm reaching a new phase of grieving.
But mostly I think it's just residual Cuba afterglow.
Whatever the reason, I feel very much removed from where I was at one month ago even.
I can get through some 24 hour periods without suffering mini-breakdowns. I can more often refer to my mother without immediate tears. I have, if not more, than at least as many good days as bad.
It's not even that I am so much more emotionally stable or well adjusted than I was one month ago; it's more that I've been able to take a step back and admit that this sucks and I am not okay.
Just admitting that I'm not alright has allowed me the freedom to let some of the pain go and try to put myself back together.
I'm not trying to say that everything is perfect now. On the contrary, there is a lot of work to be done but at least I feel like I'm moving forwards now.
I miss my Mother as much, if not more, than ever.
But I miss Her with an acceptance of Her new place in my life.
1 comments:
I don't know WHAT I would have done without anti-anxiety meds. I can't even think about it.
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