Sunday, August 18, 2013


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.


  1. Irish McCarey CruikshankAugust 18, 2013 at 10:26 AM

    I know about the grief. While I haven't lost a spouse, I have lost a son. It will be 17 years on Sep 3. The first few years were not great, but it does get easier. You'll never lose the sadness but it gets to a point where the good moments are more than the bad. You will come to a place where it doesn't occupy your every waking thought. Hang in there! It will get better! Praying for all of you!

  2. Oh isnt ungrateful at all to feel this way, its grief. Plain and simple. Mourning for what you feel and who you have lost has nothing to do being ungrateful for what you DO have. I cant imagine the confusion of emotions you are going through right now. My heart still aches for you and the boys every single day. ((HUGS))

  3. Meri, I was talking to someone about an hour ago who had lost their brother a few weeks back. She expressed many of the same feelings you've expressed here. I know that doesn't make it any better, but I hope it lets you know that what you're feeling is perfectly normal. Even though it's a crappy kind of normal. I wish I had the right words for you. No matter what, you're still amazing and inspirational, and we're all feeling blessed and grateful for you. Thanks

  4. ((HUGS)) It is hard. Every year on May 5th we celebrate Tom, we also have a big dinner together in August when we found out about the cancer. Because we know that there is no way around those moments we've chosen to openly acknowledge that we're all thinking about him, we cry together often, but in the end we usually have a roaring good time together - just the way Tom would like it. I know you and your family will find a way to honor this time together, share the moment and know that it's okay. Take care. :)

  5. I've never commented before. I found your blog when I was searching for a blog about Type 1 diabetes. My new husband of one year is Type 1 and had just had a traumatic low episode and I was looking for support. I admire you and your family and am so sorry for the loss of your husband.

    While I'm new to the diabeter world, I know about grief. My first marriage of 19 years died when my then husband came out as gay, and I lost the man I thought my husband was, my present, and my past (all memories had to be reframed with the fact my husband never loved me by his own admission). My three children and I were a mess. I cried every day for nearly a year. In part, I think you need to move through the circle of grieving to come out whole in the end. But, I think it's perfectly ok to seek help from both a therapist and your doctor. Zoloft helped me tremendously. (It is sometimes better to seek better living through medicine than through destructive self-medication). Lastly, the shower is a good place to cry since you're already wet.

  6. I'm praying for you, Meri. I'll especially be praying for you on Sept. 2!
    I can understand wanting to cry alone. I feel that way too sometimes and I haven't lost a spouse. How ever, it's important that your boys know that it's alright to cry. You are their example. Even though we've never met, I feel like I know you. If we were personal friends I'd hug you and cry with you and laugh with you, rejoice with you and hug you. I will keep praying for you.


  7. Know that so many of us out here are sending you love. It may not help much, but it's what I've got. <3

  8. Meri, please know that you are constantly in my prayers and my family's. I am very sorry things are so heavy right now. Please know that you are loved.

    Your younger friend, :)


  9. Keep going girl, I've never met you in person but I'd hug you if I could! You do not grieve as one who has no hope. You have hope and you press through the darkness and you're hanging onto truth like a champ. Go girl!

  10. My goodness, I can feel your pain. It IS so hard sometimes. I have Type 1 and so does my dog. Yes, my dog. He's a trooper. But I cannot imagine what it must be like to have 3 children with Type 1. It seems like this theme is coming up a lot for me lately - where I am presented with a situation, a meeting, a "something" that reminds me how nasty diabetes is for everyone (me included) but that just like any other part of us, we just have to keep going and take it with us. I like the idea of taking it with me intentionally. That way, it doesn't feel like diabetes is refusing to let go, dragging behind me and trying to pull me down. Hang in there Meri - you can do this! And so can your boys!

  11. Very interesting discussion glad that I came across such informative post. Keep up the good work friend. Glad to be part of your net community.


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