Scattered Thoughts of a Broken Me
I’m sorry for my scattered thoughts, but that is just how they come to me. Some days, I wake up with a smile on my face and life is okay. But more often than not..I wake up and it’s like a gut punch, with my first thought *It’s not a nightmare..this is my reality* Because I’ve always been open and honest about my struggles, I’m able to say to people *I hurt*.
But I don’t tell them just how much it hurts. I don’t tell them about the days when the tears are just sitting on my eyelids all day long. Waiting for any excuse to start falling. I don’t tell them about the nights when I bury my face in my pillow and attempt to muffle the screams that come pouring out, because I don’t wanna scare or sadden anyone. I hold off describing how sometimes, my head spins with so many sad thoughts and memories, that it feels as though I’m having a stroke. Or how it feels like the worst physical pain you could ever feel and multiply it by 1000. I don’t usually tell them how much I wish there was someone who was here to hold me and let me cry when the sadness hits.
I long for one of her hugs. Or to walk in the door and hear *Hi Mummy!!,* and giggle in her sweet voice. I long to be able to experience her wedding, or her pregnancies. To see her hold her first child and feel the intense love that only a mother can understand. To watch her grow into the amazing woman that I was so sure she was going to be. I miss seeing her with her brother and sister, loving on them and being silly. And watching her struggle to hold Onyx and yell at him *Love me dammit!!* Or doing her happy dance when I cooked one of her many favorite foods.
I just miss. I miss so damn much. I miss the Lisa that I used to be. I call her “June 12, 2014 Lisa”. I miss being happy. I miss feeling like the world is a good place. I miss not having to explain why I no longer have 3 kids. I miss being able to look at a picture of my child and not wanting to remember every minute detail of what was happening when we took the picture. I miss being able to sing. I miss talking to my daughter, who was also…my friend. I miss her voice and I’m terrified that one day, I will not be able to hear it in my head. I just miss.
