I wasn’t prepared for how grief would feel three years later. People think that after a certain amount of time, you should be okay—that the pain should be softer, the weight should be lighter. But some days, it crashes over you like a tidal wave, and you have no choice but to let it take you under.
Today is one of those days.
I had to force myself to get in the shower tonight because the kids need normalcy. Because the world expects me to function. Because I tell myself I shouldn’t be depressed—it’s been three years.
But grief doesn’t care about time. And when the spiral starts, it’s like I can’t stop it. The emptiness, the loneliness, the nothingness that settles in—it’s suffocating.
I think I finally understand The NeverEnding Story now. The “Nothing” that swallows everything whole, that pulls you into the bog so fast you forget that you can get through it.
But here’s what I’m learning: The wave will pass.
So tonight, I’m riding it out. I’m curled up with my grumpy cat, who somehow always knows when I need her. I turned on the latest Bachelor episode, not because I care about it, but because sometimes distractions are the only way through.
This is grief. This is life after child loss. This is surviving—even when it doesn’t feel like it.
If you’re in the waves today too, just know: You’re not alone. And this won’t last forever.
Love and Light ~Mandy
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