Wake up, put an immediate attention grabber and energy sucker also known as my phone in my face to help start my distraction for the day. Then, as my phone plays an annoying and pointless show that one of these digital streaming services offer, I start to get ready for my day. Once finished, I hurry out the door, finding myself alone in the car now aimlessly finding a podcast to continue my ultimate brain distraction on my way to work.
Once I arrive to work, it's one distraction after another, followed by rushing home to make dinner and prepare for the next groundhog day.
I realize these days, these moments, are stacked with one distraction after another to help me avoid me feeling my forever loss. When I feel pieces of my loss in moments between one agenda to the next, it's ultimate sadness, at times unbearable.
I know the way I have chosen to try and cope with the loss of my beautiful son is not a recommendation that any counselor would provide to their patients. When I spend time with my family, especially on the weekends or when I have opportunity to free my mind and relax, my body and soul end up entering into a paralyzed grief state where I'm left isolated and again, just with pure sadness. All of the pain that tried to seep through my many layers of distractions earlier in the week, all come pushing through, like a tidal wave of grief.
While on one hand I appreciate when people say "you are so strong", on the other hand I think "you have no idea".
Now, it's my birthday weekend. My birthday. I subconsciously avoided the calendar the last few weeks and kept telling myself my birthday is in a few weeks. I guess this is what I get for prioritizing distractions. My birthday is here and I had no idea how fucking hard this would be without my son.
I have a new found hate over "Happy Birthday, I hope you get everything you want" or "I hope you have a great day". Screw it. I want nothing that anyone can give me. I want to be able to look at the damn Facebook memories that pop up where I'm with all of my kids celebrating my birthday, happy, naive of the darkness and hell that is to come.
Whether it has been a week, a month or now past 6 months, my sadness and physical longing for Alex has not lifted or even lightened. I have only instead learned to fake a smile and true happiness.
It's difficult to look ahead, plan or even find hope when you feel you are locked behind bars for your entire life. I know, just like any prisoner behind bars, you figure out how to best settle and get along with your new reality. Perhaps I'm still in shock of being imprisoned and I have yet to acclimate.