Remembering Charlie

Charlie was a little breath of everything kind.

I know it seems cheesy to put so much hope into the world by the life of a puppy, but Charlie got me through some of the most difficult times. Nothing could make his love for me shake. He was a little angel on earth.

Please don't do this to me

As I am sitting here anxious, I thought I would blog about what this feels like for me.

I have been battling my anxiety all night, but it has gotten so bad that I had to take medicine to prevent a panic attack (I'm alone, this would not be pretty).

I just took Buckley out to go potty and all I could do was run around the yard. I was thinking that running would release some of these emotions. Then, I just plopped down into a little ball. I stared up into the sky. I felt/feel so anxious that I am not able to sit still. I decided to put my head into my knees, squeezing my arms tightly, praying, "Please don't do this to me. Please don't do this to me. Please don't do this to me." Gripping for anything real. I was just whispering, begging for the pain and anxiety to leave. I realized that I was talking to God. I was begging for a break. BEGGING. Also, I was wanting to run away and have a whole new life. Obviously, I know this was a fleeting thought, but it seems so appealing. 

When my mind and body start to grasp the pain at its fullest, it is then, of course, I long for Mom. I miss her sweet voice, her gentle hands and her loving heart. Tonight, I started to ask her to come visit me. I just wanted her to sit with me as I felt this deep unbearable pain and anxiety. I just wanted to see her. Normally, the idea of a spiritual visit from a loved one isn't welcomed, but at this moment I felt as though I needed her. I kept flashing back to all of the times I screamed and cried in her arms. This time I just did it alone. Mom always told me to never cry alone. I want to believe she was there with me.

"The death of a mother is the first sorrow wept without her"

Whew. Where to begin? Life truly is an uphill battle for me. I can try my best to enjoy the climb or let the fear of it steal my joy. The past few months has been the probable answer for me, it's been both. I have been robbed of joy, having moments of utter despair and small glimpes of hope and comfort.

I miss Mom so much that my heart cannot handle the pain. It's almost like my body is realizing that the central part, my heart, has given up, but that the rest of my body has found a new way to operate.

When I look at pictures of my beautiful mother, the despair for her love is so great that I have to stop all together. I have to just breathe. Believe it or not, breathing is difficult. Sometimes, I really do have to concentrate on it intently, so that my shock of the loss of my mom on this earth fades into a corner of my brain for a moment.

Please do not worry about my faith. God is gracious. I know that I will be in His arms, until I can be in Mom's again.

"Knowing the Lord and His comfort does not take away the ache; instead, it supports you in the middle of the ache. Until I get home to heaven, there's going to be an ache that won't quit. The grieving process for me is not so much a matter of getting rid of the pain, but not being controlled by the pain."