I have a lot of time to go through things and pack up so I have taken my time doing it.
I have sifted through letters, wedding invites I never disposed of, baby announcements, baby hospital bracelets, clothes, love letters, first drawings, and Declan's things.
I had everything scattered about my room. I had old clothes I had worn after Emmy that I haven't been able to fit into. I looked around and shook my head. I have been trying to purge my pack-rat tendencies, but obviously it did not completely take.
I laughed as I pulled out about 60 invites to my wedding. I had never been able to dispose of them...though they really are of no use to me. So I kept a few for my kids and Christian and I then tossed the rest.
Next came the old maternity clothes. I had kept items from when I had Bryce. I hated them...they were so uncomfortable...I didn't even wear them with Emmy or Declan...but there they were. I had a whole bin brimming with these clothes. So I took a breath and started to unload them. When I was done the bin was almost empty.
It felt good.
I was stepping in the right direction.
I don't want to keep everything because it has sentimental attachment...they are just things.
I could easily fill an entire room with Bryce's school work. Every time I threw out a paper of his from Kindergarten I would pause wondering if I should rid myself of his precious work. But I quickly realized it would overtake my life if I let it.
Moving has given me the opportunity to reevaluate. I am trying to figure out what I really want out of this life and how I want to do it.
I look at my kids and myself seeing the holding pattern we have kept for two and half years. As much as I want to break out of it...I can't seem to. I really think I need to relocate to shake things up and start new.
Along with my realization I have become a bit of a closet hoarder...I have recognized where I need to change.
I've done okay so far. I haven't lost my mind...which frankly is a huge accomplishment. But I have to start pushing myself harder. Allowing myself to breathe and live.
I allow fear to keep me from my life.
The trauma of losing Declan has done a number on me. I didn't even understand how bad until recently.
I had prayed many nights for help with the pain...because it was unbearable. However, I never thought to ask for help with the traumatizing part of losing him.
I think that was too much for me to process so I unknowingly pushed it away.
Even now as I am typing I think about all the hard things about death and my heart is starting to feel painful and my breath is becoming restricted.
It isn't going to happen over night, but I did feel a huge weight off me as I began to pray to have the trauma, that wasn't my fault, be taken from me.
I know I will miss him always, but the memories that keep me awake at night aren't meant to keep me from living...only they have for the last few years.
I will get there. I realize that patience is not only a virtue, but necessary...especially for ourselves. I have been much too hard on myself and I finally decided to give myself a break.
I see myself leaving this home...which a month ago would bring me to tears. I process slowly, but I am getting there and I know one day I will look back at this point in my life and see how far I had come.
Life really is good...even when it breaks your heart.
