The Worst Places For Me Right Now

There are four places that are the very worst places for me right now as I grieve Max's death.

• The first and worst is the bathtub.  The pain rushes over me as the water fills the tub.  The hot water steams open the pain.  I always seem to cry SO HARD in the tub.  My mind has nothing else to concentrate on and I am completely alone.

• The second and nearly as bad is my car when I am driving alone.  I confess, I still ride to and from work with my co-worker to as many jobs as possible.  I HATE driving alone, especially after a long day at work.  It seems like my brain is on overload trying not to deal with the grief while I work, and like a dam breaking, that ride home is awful.  Having someone else driving not only helps because of the conversation, but it allows me to be a passenger and not driving.  The first few times I went to/from my mom's grief support group in Hutchinson, I must have been on auto-pilot because I cried the entire way both ways, which scares me so much considering Max DIED in a car crash.  My mind re-plays and re-plays when I am alone in the car.

• The third is the grocery store.  Oh man, this place is FULL of grief landmines.  Running into someone who knows to running into someone who doesn't know.   I wish I was invisible, not having to talk to anyone at all, just get my list and get the heck out of there.  Up and down the aisles I go, seeing and not buying the things I used to for Max ... crying the entire way.  I have finally given in and allowed a friend to help me by being my "grocery fairy" for now for our family.  She insists it's not a big deal for her, and I am so grateful because I HATE THAT PLACE.

• The final place is my own bed at night.  That first night Max died, we hit the bed about 2 am after an incredibly long day.  I remember not wanting to turn the light off that night, I didn't want that day to be over, I didn't want the last day Max was on earth to be over, it couldn't be over, NO.  Todd said that Max would be dead whether we turned the light off or not, so I finally did.  We both cried ourselves to sleep that night, listening to Trinity underneath in Max's room crying herself to sleep.  Now that dark quiet place of my bed just allows my brain to run and run and run.  Sleep is not my friend any more.  So I spend a lot of nights out on the couch.  I can manage a few hours of sleep there, and I can usually take a nap in my bed during the day.  It's night that I just can't breathe in my bed, in my bedroom.

I am ready for this nightmare to be over.  Some big cosmic mistake, a horrible joke gone wrong, just a test, NOT REAL.  I am tired of living in so much agony.  I am weary of watching my FAMILY living in so much pain and navigating through each hour, trying to learn how to live in a world of loss, where normal will never return.