So it’s about time to come out of the fog. The stroke caused a fog to settle over me and I’ve been weighed down by it ever sense. The shock of what happened has caused a lot of emotions. Ranging from good (feeling grateful for a second chance at life. to bad (angry at losing So much time). To fear (that this will happen again. The thing about these emotions is that everyone thinks they understand how you feel or that they can imagine how it is. Well you can’t. What I have been through just isn’t something you can get unless you’ve lived it.
That’s true for everyone and I don’t get why we think we can understand what someone else is going through. I can be empathetic and try to imagine how I would feel but I will never know what it’s like to be you going through what you’re going through at that moment.
Back to what I was saying. It’s time to heal. I broke. Like to my core from the grief of what happened. Like sobbing when no one can hear you till there is nothing left to cry, I am picking up the pieces that shattered around me and am trying to put myself back together. There are a lot of pieces and its going to take time. Some pieces won’t go back together right because they broke off jagged. The pain from being unable to be with Isabella for a month and not being the kind of mother she deserves broke some pieces that are hard to put back. It’s not as simple as just start doing better now. I have a picture in my mind of what being the mother I want to be looks like and you know what she didn’t have a stroke. She doesn’t feel her heart break when she has to ask her child to help her get something because she’s physically unable to do so but a three year old can. She is able to walk and play on the slide. This perfect mom in my head makes the real mom me sad and to be honest resentful. The real me knows that someday I will be able to do that again problem is She is only three now she grows and changes so fast and I want to be that perfect mom and it hurts so deep to not be her. So healing is happening but it’s happening at my pace and it’s not just physical. Someday I will be able to look around and not see any more broken pieces because I will have slowly put myself back together. So just be patient with me. It’s painful and there are still pieces missing and it hurts. It sneaks up on you. There are moments when I almost forget something is wrong and when I remember it hurts that much more. So let me grieve and don’t expect me to heal at your pace. This is my story. I’m getting ready to tell it. I hope this blog will give me a chance to share the moments of joy when I start to fix another piece. I also hope to have a place to share my grieving and when another wave of sadness comes over to find support and kindness