“And God knows, I’m not dying but I breathe now
And God knows, it’s the only way to heal now
With all the blood I lost with you
It drowns the love I thought I knew”
-Ellie Goulding, My Blood
I’ve missed this. I’ve sorely missed this.
My last post was so candid and raw, it literally broke my heart re-reading it. Since that time, I’ve been in the midst of the most terrible, eye opening, and humbling season of my life. Yes, more intense and life-changing than my stays in the hospital, the implosion of my nuclear family, or any depression I’ve been immersed in.
I haven’t written since then – because I simply couldn’t. My soul was crushed. My fire was merely smoldering. Was I alive? Sometimes I wasn’t sure — or I didn’t even want to be.
My sweet, precious Grandmother held on with us until March 19, 2017, at approximately 8:15 AM. I was with her and my parents and grandfather at the hospice when she passed. It was the most shocking, spiritual, and devastating day of my life. Things are completely different now and I will never be the same.
I look back and realize that in that last post, during that time between October 2016 and March 2017 – I was living outside of myself, I was merely surviving day to day, I was a ghost in my own life, working, drifting through each day, smiling, talking, but I don’t think I was even truly there. During that time I watched my grandmother deteriorate rapidly; I watched my family crumble; I watched everything I knew change completely; I watched the seminal person in my life go away for good. Sometimes, I am at a loss for words.