I'm new to the group. A group I never even knew existed. A group I never knew how many people were actually a part of. A part of a statistic that no one talks about. There are different subgroups within the group. My subgroup would be mother's of children who have died by suicide. There are fathers, there are siblings, there are friends, there are spouses, there are children whose parents died by suicide. Everyone of us share a pain that is unimaginable. These groups grow by the thousands everyday. You're a part of the group for the rest of your life. You can't drop out if you stop paying your dues. You can't send in a card cancelling your membership.
I've had many people reach out to me, mainly other mothers who have lost children of various ages. They've shared things that helped them cope, they've shared support groups and resources, and just offered their phone numbers to call for support as being someone that's gone through it. I didn't ask to be a part of this group. I don't want to be. But it's life now. For us there is no other option but to move forward. This is who we are now. In a way it does define us. We may not have a physical scar for the world to see but it's there.
Do you see the scar in my eyes? They aren't as happy as they used to be. No one has ever wondered how I was feeling because I wear my emotions on my face. Whether I'm angry, happy, sad, carefree you can see it in my face. I've threatened lately to buy a shirt that says "This is my happy face". I'm joking, but it reality it's pretty true. Used to if I was deep in thought, or working through a problem I'd get the look on my face. Now I guess I have that look most of the time because I get that question a lot more "What's wrong?" or "What are you mad at?" It's not every second of everyday because there are times I work hard to fit in and look normal. Now it's a physical effort at times to have conversations, or to joke around. I used to be a jokester and loved to make people laugh. Now I'm not as quick on the draw and I almost have to make myself joke sometimes because my heart isn't in it like it used to be. I am a LOT more conscious of people's feelings and their emotions.
Do you feel it in my heart? It physically hurts sometimes. And not like heart attack chest pain (not that I know what that feels like) it's a physical pain when I am reminded of him or sometimes if I'm just thinking about it. It's a tightness and an ache that is truly a physical pain. Maybe hearts truly do break because I can feel it in mine. A part of it is broken. It was the "Kaleb" part of my heart it doesn't work like it used to.
Do you feel it in my legs. Don't get me wrong I'm not a skinny person. I'm not young and I'm not fast but I can feel the "weight" in my legs. Not my physical weight, but the weight of carrying that broken heart and the scarred eyes. It takes more effort to put one leg in front of the other and keep moving forward. My philosophy is, I'll just use it like exercise. It makes you sore and you feel worse before you feel better but if you keep going you start to see the difference. So everyday I put one leg in front of the other and walk myself through the day. Some days are better than others and I might get more miles on the legs. Other days as long as they hold me up, that is progress. It means I didn't give up.
I will never give up. I might have to invest in that shirt that says "This is my happy face" and I'll wear it proudly. I know I'm strong and I might not look as happy as I used to, feel as good, or move as quick but I'm still here. Working to make each day a little better.
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