Conversation with, Letter to God

I pray to God everyday. God and I have conversations.  He's a good Listener.  And his advice/answers/responses are, shall we say, on the money.  But sometimes, I feel if I put down in writing, what I wish to say, it's out there, floating around in the infinite unknown, and know I really need some guidance (not that He doesn't know that already).  Call it a letter to God.

So God, I am so tired.  Tired of feeling lost, alone, hidden, abandoned.  I have placed these feeling upon myself, not You. 

I am lost because the people that I would turn to for support (besides You) through this are gone.  They joined You in your Beautiful Home. 

I am alone and hidden because I have pulled within myself away from people.  To get close to people means that I will get hurt.  I don't want to get hurt again.  And yet, I want to get out of this house, have fun again, meet people, move on.  And yet I feel guilty for feeling this way.  I should not want to get out, have fun.  I am in mourning.  How long do I have to mourn until it's OK to move on? 

I feel abandoned.  This one, this one is all the others rolled up and tied with a bow.  I feel abandoned because I am lost, alone, hidden.  I need another living, breathing person to talk to, to laugh with, to cry with, to be happy with, to be sad with.  The one person I had that with, for the good or bad we went through, the arguing we did, that one person is gone.  That one person I realize, let me let loos all my emotions on, no matter what came up.  I do not have that anymore. 

Yes, I have friends.  But with friends, you put on a brave face and let them see that you are getting through this, moving on,  being brave.  You don't let them see the underside, the emotional wreck you've become.  It's not a pretty sight.  One you don't want your friend to see.  One they don't really want to see either.

I am not really asking for anything God.  Just wanted to lay down this heavy load that I carry.  My mother always said You were the one that would help carry the load  when I couldn't do it anymore by myself.  Even though she's with You now, I still listen to my mother.

The Emotions of Grief

It is not often that I talk to others about my grief, let alone write about it, but there are times when I need to let out what I hold inside.  Today is one of those days.  I have gone through all the emotions of grief at least once, if not twice in these past months.  Fear, denial, sadness, hopelessness.  These have been my constant companions.  My silent companions. 

Today anger moved in.

I am angry.  Angry at hime for leaving so utterly alone.  Angry at him for not taking care of himself.  Angry at him for leaving me to handle all of the problems.  Angry at him for making me make the decision to turn off the ventilator.

I am angry at myself. 

Angry at myself for feeling angry at him.  Angry at myself for not feeling like I can go another step.  Angry at myself for not noticing the signs.  Angry for not pushing him to take care of himself.  Angry for the continuous arguments that we had prior to his death.  Angry at myself for making the decision to turn off the ventilator.
Angry at myself for being tired, not sleeping, not eating, crying, laughing, having a good day, having a bad day. 

I am angry at myself for surviving.

Sometimes I don't want to feel anything.  But I know that if I don't feel these emotions.  Go through these emotions.  I will not heal.  I will not move forward.  I will not survive.

And so, I let these emotions wash over me.  I feel each and every one of them.  As many times as it takes.  As many tears as I can cry. To move forward.  To heal.  To survive.