Grief in the dead of night

(Grief in the dead of night)

Have you ever felt okay but your mind keeps fighting to be depressed ?

That won't make sense to some, hell it doesn't always make sense to me,but I swear I feel it!

It keeps creeping up on me like a thief in the night. No matter how hard I try to change my path to the brighter side, it's just creeping up behind me, faster and FASTER.

I can feel chills all throughout my body,the harder I try to fight it. I cant seem to shake this feeling. If I do, it's just for a short moment until it catches me alone again.

I bottle it all up inside and fight to "prove" that I'm okay. I don't want to be asked "what's wrong now?" anymore.

I remember being in school and everyone would always compliment my smile and tell me that I'm always so happy. I can't lie, I feel selfish when i get this feeling because no one around me deserves to feel even a piece of this pain.

Believe me, im not bragging at all, but I have the life I've always prayed for. The life that I never thought would ever come! Im grateful for it all, I swear I am!

My heart feels so WEAK! I didn't even get a chance to know what being strong truly is. People tell me that I'm strong all the time, but how would they know? I guess it's because I didn't lose my mind.

I feel as if my children would appreciate my decision later in life, to shield them from their brother's murder. It's makes me weak, i cant bear to even think about it. I fought hard to get all of Christian's belongings, after a long eight years, I finally made it happen. I also got the chance to view his entire case file and surprisingly, it didn't break me. Or maybe I felt like it wouldn't be fair to my family to express my almost nine year long grieving process. I can't lie, I'm so weak on the inside, but it's trapped in a dark vault in the back of my mind. If it could scream, no one would ever hear it's cries for freedom.

I can see his face, eyes closed, mouth open. He has an abrasion on his forehead, the shape of a large thumb nail. He's lying on the table so peacefully, yet lifeless. Still wearing the same striped pajamas I dressed him in that morning. I cant get the number fifty-six out of my head. Fifty-six injuries, it haunts me everyday. Why am I the one struggling mentally, when he died at the hands of another?

Lord I've begged for the answers and you revealed them all to me when the timing was right. Yet, I'm still having a hard time accepting the fact that his life didn't matter, so much that his killer is living a happy life. It may not be for me to understand, but it's pure torture to say the least.

My first child has become a box on a shelf forever. Could you live with that? I have so much love to give to my babies on this earth, but I'll always have extra just for you! My heart may be heavy, but you'll hold a special place in it until God calls me home.

Sadly not all of my heartache comes from losing my first child. It's so much deeper than that. I was just a child. I felt bullied by everyone around me. I didn't come from a close family. My sister and I spent many days and nights with people we didn't truly know. Some were nice, then there were others who would shove silver spoons down my throat because I've always been a picky eater. I've had socks shoved in my mouth just for falling asleep after school. My sister seems to not be affected by anything that happened in our past, then there's me. Everyone has always called me emotional, sensitive, a talkative child. It seemed like there's nothing that anyone liked about me. Still today, talking a lot is my biggest insecurity.

I don't understand why I've always had to fight so hard to be genuinely loved and understood. I've always been the ass of every joke. I don't know where I belong in this world. I've fought so hard since a young child. It's catching up to me now and I feel like I'm everyone's problem or I'm everyone's reason why they treat me the way that they do. I've come to the conclusion that no matter how hard I try, everything that has come to me is my fault. Im ruining my husband's mind, I can't let that keep happening. I choose to just take care of his mental and forget all about me. If I didn't have my babies looking up to me, I'd be gone. What's my purpose here?

I'm a very creative person but idk who I am or what I want anymore. There's nothing to be excited about other than taking pictures of my kids and making memories for us all. I constantly question "what if I'm not here?"