You know the feeling you get when you see a spider, a mouse, a clown, or something that scares you? That chills you to your very core? Or that immediate cold chill feeling; the sickness that makes your stomach turn in knots? You know the way you feel when you encounter your biggest fear?
That’s my reality.
Every day, I wake up and realize that my daughter is dead. Her face is the first one I see in the morning but only by photo on my night stand. It’s always the same; the same position, the same angle, the same black and white color.
It’s like every day I have to get out of bed knowing I will be faced with all the fear. I will walk out of my bedroom and see a mouse or spider. And I can’t escape them. They will just be there in my house taunting me. My biggest fear, and I’m unable to escape it. Someone’s biggest nightmare, is my reality. It’s MY biggest nightmare, and my reality.
I spent today wrapping all the Christmas gifts we have in our home. We wrapped them downstairs in our spare room. On Kenley’s rug. I felt close to her, but it also made me want to die a little because that’s how I have to spend time with my daughter? It’s so sad.
Every year, no matter what happens in my life from here on out, I will be facing the death of my daughter four days after Christmas.
My biggest fear became my reality, and it’s ALWAYS going to be my reality. I think some people may look at me and think “oh she went on to have two more children after her daughter died so she must be doing better”. Those people are wrong. I’m doing different. I’m in no way “better”, I still live with the chilling reality that my child died inside of my fucking body and its not something I can escape or kill (like a spider or mouse). It won’t go away, it won’t quiet, it won’t rest.
It makes me tired. It makes me sad and anxious and depressed. It exhausts me. It shadows every single aspect of my life.
December is the worst.