It took me a month after losing CJ before I had the strength, or was even
“with-it“ enough mentally to write anything. This is the first of my entries, and it's by far the hardest for me to share. I am doing so because when I lost CJ, I desperately looked online for anything or anyone that would give me hope that we would survive this. I looked for anyone who looked like us or was in the same situation. I read everything I could get my hands on. I also wanted to find someone who had made it through to the other side of this. Then... when I did find messages of hope, I would tell myself, "if they are doing okay, it must be because they didn't hurt as bad as we did, or they weren't as close to their child as we were with CJ." Of course, I know that wasn't true now, but at the time I couldn't see how anyone could possibly survive the pain we were feeling. I felt like I was going crazy.
If you are in this place right now, know that you are not going crazy. Know that it will get easier and it won't always feel like this.
–This is our experience. I know everyone grieves differently. I just want to share for anyone in that desperate search during those first few weeks and months when you don't think you can make it, when you are looking for anyone in the same storm as you:
The first month without CJ was the most excruciating pain I have ever been through. The first few days are very blurry. I remember what happened. I remember what we did and who was here, but it’s all very dream-like. The thing I remember clearly though was the pain. At first, I had to remind myself to breathe. I had to force the air from my body. The hurt was so bad that as I walked from room to room I would make a moaning sound. It physically hurt. My heart physically hurt. There was also a heaviness in my body. I had to force my feet to move because they felt like they were weighed down by bricks. The heaviness in my chest felt like it was crushing my chest.
Every morning when I woke up the air would be sucked from my body when I realized that I wasn’t dreaming and this was still real. I felt like I got punched in the stomach every single morning. Trying to get out of bed every morning with the heaviness in my body was so hard. It took everything in me to do it. It was so hard to see the world moving on around us when my world was completely shattered. I felt like I was living inside a bubble. When I would look at someone driving by, I would envy them. I would wonder if they had ever felt pain like this...they surely couldn’t be feeling what we were feeling. It was like time was standing still and flying by all at the same time.
One thing that surprised me early on was the fear that we felt. I felt like a little kid. I was scared of the dark, scared to take a bath, scared to be alone, scared to open the window. It wasn’t logical at all. We all slept in the same room, Pat, the girls, and I, for many weeks. I couldn’t have the girls out of my sight.
And worse than any of that was the miss I had for CJ. I was so lonesome for him. Everything I saw and everything we did reminded me of him- and it all hurt so bad. I don’t think that miss will ever go away, but I pray that someday it becomes easier and I can remember him with a smile.
I am not the same person I was before he left. I ask him for strength every day. CJ was the toughest kid I knew. I know the strength I find comes from him and from all the amazing friends and family who surrounded us daily. They carry us when we can't do it ourselves.
One moment, one hour, one day at a time!
-Nicole
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