Before and After


I was a loudmouth.  I was curious.  I was bold.  I loved arguing politics.  I sang karaoke with enthusiasm.  I attended a college that has a reputation for having fun, and I had fun.  I also graduated, went to grad school, and became a teacher.  I had confidence.  I didn’t mind the confidentspotlight at all. Ever.  I was eager to share my ideas.  I loved conversation.  I loved analyzing satire.  I loved baseball.  I loved going out.  I loved running into people I knew.  I loved showing off my beautiful daughters.  I loved making plans.  I loved a microphone.  I loved being silly and encouraging others to do the same.  I loved meeting people.  I always had fun at parties.  I was often too loud for the situation.  I went wine tasting, just for the fun buzz you get and the great company of my friends.  I wore colors.  I did not shy away from confrontation.  I loved my job.  I cared, deeply, about so many things.


November 16, 2016 – My daughter bled to death during surgery.  She was 14 months old. 



I’m scared of a knock on my door.  Being in a crowd makes me sweat.  Being in fear_large-hpa restaurant makes my hands shake.  I don’t like looking people in the eye.  I can not speak on the phone.  I wear sunglasses inside.  Leaving my house, every time, takes a boost of courage.  I often can not focus when someone is speaking to me.  I won’t leave my house if my neighbors are outside.  My eyes get stuck seeing the horrors of my recent past play over and over in my head.  I have a pain in my chest all the time.  I can feel some of the people around me slowly drift away.  I make people uncomfortable because they don’t know what to say, what not to say.  I represent death and loss and sadness. I can’t visualize, or plan for, or think about the future.  I don’t want to see most people.  I am terrified of variables.  Nothing matters.  I don’t want to discuss or debate or argue anything.  I don’t care.


The person I was before does not exist anymore. A huge portion of that person was shattered, never to be repaired.  There is a part of myself that is no more.  Everyday I learn more and more what I lost on November 16, 2016.  I will slowly have to figure out how to 65247647-artificial-intelligence-head-low-poly-style-3d-vector-wireframe-shattered-object-modernistic-backgrorebuild myself.  I will have to find a way to fill that space left behind.  I don’t know who that person will be.  I have no idea how I can rebuild myself after such powerful destruction.  But, I am still breathing.  My heart still beats.  I still have love.  My body, my mind, my soul will find a way. I am just at that start of this painful, horrifying, and endless journey.  Every step hurts.  Every breath is taken carefully.  Every moment is difficult.  I hope the people who love me will be patient.  I hope the people who love me will understand.  I hope the people who love me will help me.


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