Dear Diary, I have not been drinking…

It has been 42 days since we walked into our home without our daughter.

I still find myself at unpredictable moments realizing that Hayley is in fact gone.  Like it is a surprise.  It is not denial, it is truly feeling as if I just acknowledged this horrifying fact at that very moment.  I don’t know if others have had that experience with grief but I would really like to turn that one off.

This journal, blog, public diary, whatever you want to call it;  is so very personal.  I am opening up and displaying raw emotions in order to help myself and  if I am really lucky, help someone else.

For example, if I say this is what helps me and does not help me.  If someone does the latter, that does not mean that you did something wrong.  It just means for me, that didn’t work.  Even when something is said or done that is “wrong” for me, I try not to hold that against that person and I know that even a wrong effort is better than no effort.  So in case some of you have felt that way reading my journal, let me make it very clear.  It is not about you, it is about me.

If someone cares enough to approach me, to talk to me, to message me or reach out in all of the many ways we have at our disposal in 2017, they automatically get kudos points.  You really can’t say the wrong thing.  You may not say the right thing.  Who cares?  But if you choose not to reach out because you are so afraid that you will do the wrong thing and that I will publicly humiliate you on this blog; well I don’t know what to say to that.  To me that means you don’t care enough to even try.  I see that as you making it about yourself.  And I get it.  I am that person too.  I am an over-thinker and I am 100% certain that I have missed opportunities numerous times because of my own fears and ego.  What is the worst thing that can happen if you say the wrong thing to a grieving person?  Let me tell you, that person may be briefly hurt, annoyed or frustrated.  But trust me the worst has already happened to them.  Doing and saying nothing is a missed opportunity to touch another person’s life.  For me it is those brief contacts that will give me strength.

What is the wrong thing to do or say?  I honestly can only think of a few things that would be so wrong that I cannot even imagine anyone even saying them.  If my writings of rules and guidelines makes you shy away from a grieving person that is sad and not what I am trying to accomplish here.  Personally, I am willing to take the chance of feeling uncomfortable to at least show someone I care.  But that is me.  If that is not you that is fine.  Be You.

But by sharing with you experiences, my internal reaction and my feelings I hope that we all learn something, anything about supporting others or surviving our own downs in life.  I am not trying to write a self help book.  I am writing what is in my head and if you read it and connect to something I said, that makes me happy.  That makes me feel I have a purpose at a time when I am totally lost.  I have put others first my entire life.  I take ownership of what I write.  If I write about an experience and you think it might be you I am talking about.  You are wrong.  If it was you, you will know.  If you don’t like what I write or it makes you uncomfortable don’t read it.

Right now I am a confused about what I should or shouldn’t write, just in the way someone might not know what to say or not say to me.   So should I not write?  I don’t know, I am thinking out loud.  I have received so much positive feedback about doing this.  It is not all warm and fuzzy.  Almost every message indicates I caused them to cry, revisit an old wound or think about uncomfortable feelings.  But they all felt it was worth it and said thank you.

I am not writing for attention.  I am not writing for pity.  I am not writing to make anyone feel bad.  I like to write.  I always have.  But for me writing but keeping it private does not feel like I am being honest with myself.  I feel like by making this public I hold myself accountable to be real, be honest and be me.

If some of it makes you cry, laugh, or think that is just a really nice bonus.  Hayley would like that.  She was kind-hearted, but at the same time she would never back down from a fight and had almost an unhealthy vision of what was wrong or right.  I heard many of her friends suggest the song “Bad Bitch” for her hospital play list.  She was still young enough to believe it is either wrong or right; black or white.  She was only just beginning to understand what gray meant.  I am 46 years old and still struggle with that concept.  It was exciting to see her grow and watch her learn.  I was trying desperately to learn along with her and see things through her eyes.  I feel like I filter what I see, hear, and feel.  I feel like I put it through…..ok struggling with the right analogy here.

The one I am thinking of may not transfer to words correctly.  But I feel like my mind and my ego are a big pin ball machine.  The silver ball is the situation, what I see and hear, what I am observing, what is being done to me or actions I am about to take.  That ball gets released into the pin ball machine.  The obstacles, the rebounds, the slots, the lights and noises that the ball hits on its way through are my past experiences, my judgments, past hurts, past joys, how I was raised, what I had for breakfast, what is the temperature that day, am I hungry, that day in the 3rd grade I peed my pants on the playground, the day my grandma died, my dad’s body in the casket, the dog pissed on the carpet this morning, did Trump tweet this morning, grudges I hold, traits I admire.

All of these things change the score, they change that ball so when it comes out at the end (I suck at pin ball so for me this analogy works because the steel ball is going right down the center of those two stupid paddles. )  When it comes out at the end, ok lost my train of thought here, where the hell was I going with this?  Oh yeah, I am trying to learn to react or view situations with less pings.  And most of all I am trying to think before I react.  Actually hit the ball with the paddle and let it go back through before I open my mouth or react.

Ok, just reread that, not sure I am going to hit publish.  You may think I have taken too much of something.  But seriously this is a glimpse into my head, scary isn’t it.  It is also exhausting.  I bet you admire my husband right now.

So I think, what I am trying to get at, is that I may see dealing with a grieving person differently than I did a couple of weeks ago when I wrote rules and guidelines.  That was helpful for me because I was able to articulate what was going to work for me and get it out there.  But now I see things a little less right or wrong.  I think I am saying go ahead and pull back that plunger and give the ball a whack.

p.s. If you got anything out of that writing, or the pinball machine analogy actually made sense to you, then you may need medication or you are probably related to me.   Just saying.