Trying to explain how it feels to lose a child is not something I can put to words which is why a photo is giving me guidance. My world is different. I don’t know the days of the week. I don’t want to get dressed, I don’t want to be home, but I don’t want to be around others. I am not sad. I am not happy. I am not myself. I go to the store and it feels like an out of body experience. I know I walk in, I pay, I have items, but it’s all a blur. It’s like there is a dark tunnel or fun house I live in, but there is no way out.
Other times, I am productive, optimistic and want to be around the joy I once knew. I write pithy prose but it’s not real, it’s just to complete assignments. I don’t want sympathy, the words make it worse. When Elijah was in my arms, taking his last breath, the doctor told me his lifeless body may release bodily fluids. I asked if I could pray before she placed a stethoscope to his chest. She gave me that time, but I wanted it to be me. Elijah was a sweet boy. He was my whole world and he taught me how to love, real love, not the “I ♥ U” rubbish we all profess.
The world is dark. I’m in the darkness even though there is light. The darkness feels not real, but I know that when I am ready to deal with reality, it will leave and slowly I will build myself up. Today though, I find safety in the dark, foggy, surreal world.