Lost.

You know what’s frustrating?  Waking up feeling lost.  Waking up knowing how blessed you are, but being unable to enjoy those blessings.  I know we have some control over how we feel, and how we react to life…but there is a big part of us that is slave to our mortal bodies.  I’m getting tired of fighting the sadness.  The constant effort is grating on me.

Why can’t things just go back to being natural?  Easier?  Happier?  Grief is exhausting.  I just want to sleep.

I want to escape all the memories of last Summer.  I want to busy myself with useless activity to keep my brain from feeling it all.  But as hard as I try, those memories aren’t just memories…they are part of who I am.  They run through my blood as truly as the blood cells in my body do. 

And the tears.  I hate them.  I hate their constant knocking.  They are always waiting to barge in without notice.  Always unexpected.  Always at the most inopportune time.  I want to cry when I’m alone.  I’m rarely alone.

And despite all this selfish drivel, I KNOW how blessed I am to have my sweet family.  To have my beautiful home.  To have an abundance of food in my cupboards.  How can I be so ungrateful?  I make myself sick.

I’m lost.  I’m angry.  I’m sad.  I’m tired.  I’m sure it’s because in a few weeks the anniversary is coming.  And as much as I want to walk on with a smile on my face and determination in my step…it is impossible.

I have no control.

The tears.

The frustration.

The helplessness.

It seems all to be out of my hands, and to overcome it all will take a monumental amount of effort.  Effort I just can’t muster right now.

So I will endure like I always do, and know that further ahead some semblance of happiness awaits me.

My body can take away the happy for now.  But it can’t take away my hope.

I’ll move forward.  Because as hard as I try, there is no moving backward.