Skip navigation

Monthly Archives: December 2011

At times, the temptation to give in to self-pity is strong. ♪ “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen; nobody knows my sorrow.” ♫ But to allow myself this overindulgence would be selfish, foolish and an outright lie.

Sadly, I have met many that walk the same path I now face. Many who have walked it, circling, spiraling, progressing, healing, falling, giving in — for years, for decades. And so, I know better. What a disservice to them it would be to allow myself a pity party!

We’ve all heard the term ‘pull yourself up by your bootstraps’ and this is not at all what I plan to do or would ever dare to recommend to someone else in the depths of grief. However, finding a middle ground is a coping mechanism that has helped me survive the past couple of years. Somewhere between feeling sorry for oneself and ‘sucking it up’ is a place of tranquil sorrow, bittersweet reflection and a hope for tomorrow.

How I found this place, I couldn’t say for sure or draw a precise map. I can only say that it was part surrendering to my emotions — anguish, fear, sorrow, guilt and desolation — part active grieving — feeling, reading, writing, screaming, crying, sharing — and part making the choice to live again.

My gratitude to everyone who has helped me along my journey. I truly hope that you know who you are.

And my heart reaches out to all of the fathers and mothers who know the depths of my pain. I wish I could ease your suffering. I wish I could cross universes to bring our children back to us in the form we grew to know and love them in.


I am choosing to face the fact that I have been hiding from my pain and my grief for months now. I fill my days and weeks to overflowing so that I have rarely a spare minute to break down. Even though I know it isn’t healthy for me, I do it anyway. I read, I hike, I drink, I skate, I work… leaving little to no room for sitting still and contemplating. And while I am being honest with myself, I may as well admit that lately I have consciously and habitually chosen to drown my sorrows before they even surface.

Somewhere along my journey I stopped surrendering. And perhaps that was necessary, at least for a while. When I steep myself in the heartache and aimlessness of grief for too long, I feel lost; disconnected from the world. There is also a sense of apathy that is a bit frightening. And if I allow the anger to course through my veins regularly, I would become even more bitter and cynical than I already feel.

I share this with the world in hopes that it will be the catalyst to change. I need to cry. I need to write. I need to allow myself ample time to feel. To be angry. To vent.

In the beginning, I was giving myself at least thirty minutes every day to feel whatever came out after being silent and still for a while. And if nothing came, I would jump-start the process by looking through old photos or listening to sad songs.

Perhaps I am afraid that nothing will change and I will spin off into the grey abyss. Or that I will crack in two and no longer be able to function in society. Whatever the case, I owe it to myself, to my loved ones, and to my darling baby girl, to do what I can to help myself stay as emotionally healthy as possible. Gratitude helps. So does exercise.