Like It’s Happening Again

As the first anniversary of my daughter’s death approaches, I can see it getting darker.  The 1JRS9217-jrnl-2fog is coming in.  I feel lost.  I’m confused and angry.  I hurt deep inside.  I can’t focus.  I feel like I am being ripped apart.  I’m scared.

On October 26th, the countdown will start.  That’s the day the told me my baby had a growth.  Twenty-one days later they told me they lost her.  I’m going to go through all of it helpless-ida-eriksenagain.  Each day will play out in my head as it did a year ago.  My mind will revisit every scene.  I will be tortured by the shadows of her laughter and her tears.

Why would I put myself through all of that, you might ask.  The answer is, I don’t have a choice.  It is all going to happen with or without my consent.  My brain is mean.  I am powerless.  I can see it coming, but can do nothing to stop it.  I wait and brace for the pain I carry to get even heavier.

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