"Grief Counseling"...or so they say...

I've learned over the past couple of weeks that it is ALWAYS easier to criticize a person's show of grief and pain than it is to ATTEMPT to sympathize with them. One can NEVER truly empathize with a person because no two experiences are the same, although the circumstances may be similar.

Yes, I am still experiencing some anger at what my little family has gone through, but that doesn't give people the right to tell me that I'm wrong in my anger OR in my sadness. When standing on the outside looking in, with great ease comes the ability to point a finger and say "you're still healthy, why are you sad?" or "you're still alive, why are you angry?" or "Why would seeing babies, pregnant women, baby toys, or baby clothes make you do anything but smile?" or "Do you really need to stay off of work? Why can't you just talk to people?" or the seemingly fan favorite "You're young! You can try again".

It's oh-so-easy to say those things because we have been conditioned to say those things. Honestly speaking, as a person who is still deep in their pain, it is often best to say nothing at all if these are the only things you can say to a person who is grieving. Making a person feel bad, or worse, simply because YOU don't understand their pain, or you refuse to even try, isn't right, nor is it fair. The loss of a child matters just as much before that child is supposed to be born as it does after. The blindness or ignorance or people when it comes to situations like this still amazes me.

People often say that "it isn't what you say, but how you say it" and that sometimes makes people feel like they have the right to say thoughtless things, as long as they say it in a kind way. When a person is grieving, WHAT you say is more important that HOW you say it. Yes, it's what people are bred to say, but we need to educate ourselves on how to talk to mothers and fathers who have lost children as we have. This isn't the first time this is happened. It is the fourth. The fourth child that we've lost. The fourth set of hopes and dreams that were shattered. The fourth time that we've looked around us to see other people being blessed with the privilege of parenting and watching them take it for granted...because they either made a "mistake" or they just don't get it or they're just plain selfish.

Being young means NOTHING when it comes to thinking about the children that have been lost. Being healthy after the fact means NOTHING when you would gladly give your life for your child. Being happy for someone else's happiness does not mean that we cannot still grieve for our own loss. If you've never experienced this level of loss, you cannot, will not understand why it is difficult...why it hurts every day...why working does not help or distract. Yes, I am thankful to be alive, but that does not mean that I don't hurt. I laugh a lot, but only to keep from crying. I smile all the time, but if you really know me, you can tell that that smile doesn't reach my eyes. Yes, I still have a husband, a home, a job, a life and yes, I am grateful for it all...but it doesn't mean that I don't wake up in the middle of the night missing our baby.

I'm so glad that most of the people who have thought enough to call, text, post, comment, or inbox us have been sending nothing but good thoughts and sincere prayers for myself and my family. Yes, there have been people who were supposed to be our friends who have said absolutely nothing. Yes, there have been those who have said those very things that do more harm than good. But, at the end of the day, most of the people have been nothing but understanding and supportive in our time of loss and for that, we are eternally grateful. I've always heard that the fog of grief will always reveal those who truly care about you. We are SO blessed to have so many who do care about us and to have been given the clarity to see those who are great at acting.

Friendship Garden

Now, I know that normally, my posts are pretty "deep". I like to challenge people and myself. I like to force people to think, it seems like a lost art...thinking, that is. But today, I just want to be thankful.

I spent last weekend in Phoenix with a friend that I've known for 80% of my life (I couldn't stand her when we first met, but I'll tell you about that another day, lol!) I got to hang out with a friend that I met when I was in ATL. It's funny how I've been searching my whole life for true, fulfilling, wonderful friendships, and the whole time, they were right under my nose. I got to meet so many AMAZING people who just talked and laughed with me like they'd known me my whole life. No judgments, no assumptions, just fun. Although I do get lonely here in Vegas, it is awesome to know that I have come to a point in my life where I can sit back and evaluate the friendships that I have and weed my friendship garden.

I have had friends in my life since...I can't even remember when. April, Cyndy, Julie, just to name a few. We've known each other since our middle school days and lately, it feels like we've never lost contact. I am SO thankful to have a group of women in my life who know me...all of my quirks and OCD tendencies...and love me anyway. They never call me "judgmental" or say that I am a "know-it-all". They love me for who I am and value me as the person that I am. Yes, we have similar sets of morals and values, but we know that we are all human. There is nothing better than having a friend, or in my case, a group of friends, with whom we can discuss our faults, our mistakes, and try to make each other better.

It's funny to me that at 30 years old, I finally found my niche with people. New friends in AZ, old friends made anew all over the place. I don't care if I have no friends or very few friends where I am, I have friends in so many places that would make for great vacations. I'm starting to realize that I'm a very blessed girl. So, to all my friends, old and new, THANK YOU for being amazing people and for loving me for who I am...even if I am certifiable on most days.

Sick and tired of being....you know the rest!

Well, well, well...

This is one TIRED sistah! I'm drained mentally, physically, and emotionally. Worked from 0745 to after 2000 hours every single day this week. I dealt with the madness that is my workplace (mostly a good madness). I worked while in what could only be described as the worst pain of my life. I saw my husband maybe a total of six hours this week - a happy NaKia this does not make. So, while all that is going on, I'm dealing with someone who calls themselves my friend and says that they love me, but feels the need to speak to me like I'm beneath them. Today, it's I "don't know my place." Tomorrow, it's "I don't know when to be quiet." The next day, it's "I hear but I don't listen." 

I get so tired of people telling women that they have a "place" or that they should "know when to be quiet" or they should censor themselves. This is 2012 and if my husband doesn't have a problem with my expressive nature, then who are you to think I'm going to change, all just for you? Really? Can you be more shallow? Just because I don't foam at the mouth when you say certain things or have a way with words, because clearly the kind of women you come across can be wooed or stumped by a few words, doesn't mean that I am any less a lady or a woman. It just means that I require more substance in what I'm told and in conversation. To say that my education "messed me up" was the final clue in a series of them to let me know to run in the other direction. 

So, this week I learned that I am fine just the way that I am. My Creator didn't make me a weak woman, so neither can human beings. What I dealt with this week made me realize that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. Oh, I talk a good game, but sometimes, I feel....weak, broken. Sometimes, another person's insults can shine a light so bright that you cannot ignore it. I may not say all the right things all the time, but my heart is ALWAYS in the right place. I try to never say anything out of a will to hurt another person. I have no problem saying "I'm sorry" or "I'm wrong." But I would rather apologize than ask for permission. 

 I love myself way too much and my Creator loves me way to much for me to take myself down a notch just to appease a person who obviously doesn't know what a real woman is. No, not every woman is as expressive or as outspoken as I am, but to attempt to change the woman that is that way is to attempt to change the work of our Creator, and no human can do that...and as Mia from Pulp Fiction said, "that is an exercise in futility." 

Just one...

Today, I got off work, came home, and started unpacking my house. I was doing just fine, listening to some music, and then I heard Michael Jackson's "You Are Not Alone" in the background. I broke down. In the middle of the kitchen floor. I broke down and I cried. I cried for my friend. I cried for the decision she made to leave this world. I cried for what she went through. I cried because she didn't talk to anyone. I cried because she felt like she had no way out. I cried because I knew EXACTLY how she felt.

Having been raped at the age of 15-16, I wanted to end it all. I was tainted goods...in my mind. No one would ever want me or love me...in my mind. My family wouldn't be able to handle it...in my mind. I had no way out...in my mind. In my mind, my life was over, taken from me, stolen from me. No one could understand, so why tell anyone. I was the strong one. I was the good one. No one would understand me breaking down...and I was NO ONE'S victim.

Years went by, I buried that pain. Covered it up with academics, "friends", books, music. I over-achieved and under-expected. I was determined to be the smartest, the most talented, the most liked person in the world...no matter how FAKE it all was. I buried it so deep that when it reared it's ugly head years later, I was sucker-punched. This...infestation threatened to ruin my marriage, my friendships, my job, my life. Only, I had someone I knew I could talk to. I had an option and he never let me forget that he was there. The man that I swore would never, could never love me was there. I had a way out.

My friend, she didn't feel like she had a way out, so she made a decision. She made a decision to leave this world and go home to our Creator. She felt forced into making the decision to leave us here to remember her life. She felt like she had no way out. See, her pain made her sick. Her pain took OUR friend away and replaced her with this...this person who had given up. Her pain wasn't something a Sunday morning sermon could fix. Her pain wasn't something a nice chat over a glass of wine could fix. Her pain wasn't something that a book could fix. Her pain was so deep...oh so deep...that she couldn't even talk about it. And then...she was gone. Gone from this world. Gone from the pain. Gone from this life.

For the rest of my days, I will wish that there was something I could've done...something I could've said. My only hope is that in sharing my own pain, my own thoughts, my own tears, that someone out there will be able to confront their own demons. Someone will know that they are not alone. Someone will open up and purge those demons and let them go. If doing this only helps one person, then my job is done. I can only hope that ONE PERSON out there will see this and know that they aren't the only one and that they don't have to go through it alone.