Seize The Day

Following my melt down surrounding Meghan's 2nd birthday, some switch flipped on. It was like I realized, perhaps finally, that there was absolutely nothing I could do to bring back my son, Max. But while I was fighting myself (and reality) so hard, I was missing out on this beautiful two year old girl.
Yes, I know that this isn't a startling revelation, I have mourned the time lost with Meghan for a long time, but the point is that I wasn't doing anything about it. I was so stuck in this time capsule of grief that I wasn't living my life and worse...I wasn't letting Meghan live hers. I allowed myself to be afraid of...everything. I couldn't drive on the interstate, I'd freak out if we were low on gas, I'd check on Meghan over and over in her bed, I'd check Robert too...the list of things I was too afraid to do felt like it was growing and beginning to out number the list of things I was comfortable in doing. Enough! 


Now at this point I had already begun to limit my time online because I had identified the internet as a whole as I giant trigger with no website safe for my viewing. I had already begun to push myself just a little. I was going out a little more socially. We were driving to Ocala, on the interstate, on the weekends just to get out and have fun.

Then we had Meghan's party and it was so much fun for her. And for me. I saw so many friends that I had excluded during my darkness. I enjoyed catching up. I enjoyed being out. Sure it was sad, it was hard it was extremely painful, but more importantly, it was about Meghan.

Soon after, Florida caught on fire. I had been recovering from bronchitis and when the world lit into flames I felt like I was dying. After several nights of laying in bed unable to breathe and my asthma inhaler failing, I packed a bag for Meghan and I. Here I was terrified to drive on the interstate, scared to be away from my rock (my husband), unable to leave the house on my own...making a 700 mile round trip to Douglasville, Ga to stay with family for what ended up being 4 days.

I got to Georgia in the middle of a stressful time for our family there, but nevertheless, was put to bed to heal. Granny and Heather took care of Meghan while I slept. I was beyond exhausted. My lungs were worn. I was stressed beyond what I considered my limit. So I just slept and I healed. I emerged from my coma, drove home and embarked on a new journey.

I left my laptop in it's bag for about three days, before I eventually turned it on long enough to pay bills and deactivate my Facebook account, then I got busy. I ignored the house work at first but eventually I started cleaning like a mad woman during Meghan's naps, making up for all the time I lost while wallowing. But more importantly I started to do things. Without the computer to steal my attention, I found that I now had time to get down on the floor and roll around with my daughter. I never had to say "Just a minute" when she called my attention, she just had it. We started going to parks. We started meeting people to hang out or play. We went to lunch...just Meghan and I. We watched old Disney movies snuggled on the couch. We went to birthday parties (something I avoided after Max's death). We made messes. We laughed until we couldn't breathe. I got to know my daughter. While she slept or played alone, I read. I read a book a day.  I found time for myself rather than being glued to a screen that had the ability to break me at any given moment.

In my new found freedom, I felt the tension in my shoulder begin to melt away. I began to open up a little more in therapy and a lot more to Robert. Robert took a week off of work just to stay home and enjoy each other's company. I stopped being afraid every second of every day.

I'm not 100%. I won't ever be. I might fall apart again tomorrow. I still have panic attacks and nightmares. But for today, I'm clinging to every bit of happiness I can. I won't be offline forever, I'm just taking a breather.