TEN WEEKS GONE

Tomorrow it will be ten weeks. Time has become marked by that day: It has either happened before Christina died, or after and the after-time is chronicled in weeks. In spite of all that, it still does not seem true. The fact, "christina died," seems like one big farce; a sad Lifetime movie, a nightmare, an impossibility. And yet, the rational part of my mind knows it is true. The logical, functioning part of my brain continues to inform me that yes, Christina is gone - forever. If ten weeks feels like forever, how will I cope with every single day and upcoming months, years, and decades without her? Forever is way too long.

Tonite, I found myself desperately wishing that I could just believe in religion - any religion - with the promise of a magnificent afterlife where we shall all meet again. What a comfort that would be! But I don't. I can't. I need proof. I want so badly to know without a doubt that I will encounter her again, that some part of her still exists. I want to be convinced that she is somehow aware...of me, of us, of life as we know it. And more than that, I want proof that she is somehow still...somewhere. What we buried was not her. Or was it? Was her body all that was left?? That is so painful - too painful - to comprehend fully. Yet, it could very well be reality. There's just no knowing.

Yes, I spoke with a psychic intuitive. At the time, it seemed possible. At the time, I felt like perhaps the things she said were authentic; now, I'm not so sure. It could've been all wishful thinking and emotionally fed. I needed to believe the things she told me that Christina was supposedly communicating. I still want to believe it; yet, I'm a skeptic. If Christina was able to communicate with Pam, why not directly to me? 

Last night - or perhaps the night before - I dreamed about Christina. I dreamed she was still a child and her father and I had taken her to the doctor regarding her diabetes. The doctor confirmed it and we were told we had saved her life by bringing her in. Now, as I remember the dream, I don't know what to do with that. Ultimately, it triggers more guilt and regret. David and I failed as parents. We did not adequately provide for our kids. Christina needed medical intervention back then, but where were we?? Why weren't we seeing the depth of her trauma and pain?

I'm reading about PTSD and am realizing the multi-faceted nature of the trauma I've endured. Along with flashbacks that continue to occur daily, I am equally traumatized by all the what-ifs. Not just the guilt that comes with thinking about the things I could have / should have done differently that may have kept her alive, but all the other scenarios that could've made this traumatic event even more debilitating. What if the kids had found her? What if she had used a gun? What if the kids will be psychologically damaged beyond repair as they come to terms with her death? What if I die prematurely? What if there is another family calamity? What if I lose another child...or grandchild? My thoughts torture me. But that is the nature of trauma.

Tomorrow I see my doctor for medication refills. I will be asking him about a referral to their psych department or perhaps to Aunt Martha's (if they can do that). I feel like I need some help processing all of this. True, I've had some "good" days recently - days that felt almost normal. I realize I will never be who I was before Christina died; I will simply change and adapt and hopefully learn how to live with the pain. But will I ever be able to release the guilt and regrets?? Isn't the guilt legitimate??

Ten weeks. Ten weeks gone and I am ten weeks into trying to unearth who I am in light of losing her. Ten weeks of magical thinking, feeling not fully present, and wondering about the afterlife. Ten weeks of feeling numb and wanting to hear her voice (what if I forget her voice over the years???). Ten weeks of wishing this wasn't true. Ten weeks of alternating between tears restrained and sobbing uncontrollably. Ten weeks. A microscopic dent into forever.