My entire life has been spent building walls. Never allowing anyone too close, never wanting to let anyone see that they could hurt me, or that they did. I have always been able to compartmentalize my pain and put a smile on my face and tell a good joke. That’s what I do. It may be the only reason I survive now. The last few years have been spent trying to break down some of those walls, allowing people in, allowing myself to feel pain and hurt when it occurs and deal with it. Now, the walls are back up. This time I have built them with a few people on the inside though. The pain is just simply too much. The smile is harder and harder to fake. For most people, the smile that’s there is enough for them to allow themselves to think that I am ok, that I am strong and courageous and amazing in some way they are not. If they were only to lift the veil in the slightest they would see the cracks. They would see the pain, they would see the struggle of trying to hold it all together while not exactly being sure why. Its easy for people not to dig a little deeper. Its comfortable. It leaves me feeling like a ghost in my own life. My doctor noted how well I have done. I don’t do well. I just go through the motions, trying to justify the necessity of that. Trying to find time to write is tiring. Going to work is simply exhausting. Trying to hold back tears every moment leads to even more headaches and muscle strain. And more tears. My chest has not stopped hurting in 5 months. My eyes have not stayed dry for longer than a couple hours. It really is hell. Before all of this, I had absolute faith that nothing would ever happen to my children, because God never gives you more than you can handle. And I knew I would never be able to handle that. Realizing you are vulnerable like that, does not come without a price. Realizing that the people you cried for and admired for getting through such a devastating loss are no different than yourself, is both humbling and traumatic. Knowing there is no secret is disappointing. I often wonder if the people that “make it” are just better actors. They are just able to suppress enough to function. The people who don’t, well, they are just more honest.
