Running on Empty

I take immense pride in being labeled a strong, independent, and capable woman and I work to cultivate that image with my friends and family. I am very hesitant to rely on anyone or to expose my true feelings to those around me. I have perfected the 'everything is fine' mantra and I have fooled everyone, including myself, into believing I can handle anything life throws at me while continuing to uphold all of my commitments. My greatest fears are being weak, dependent, and out of control--grief doesn't bode well for me does it?

For the past 6.5 months I have managed to keep moving ahead with life and to tackle whatever the day throws at me. I have built a partnership in a difficult and ever changing school, managed my team of corps members with a combination of empathy and high expectations, helped a corps member through the trauma of losing her Mom suddenly in November, participated in a youth development certification program in Boston, and I have helped to create and implement the necessary structures of a founding site. All the while, working with youth whose lives define trauma.

I have come home to a house that is sad. A house that doesn't feel whole. We have spent time just being a family as we try to process this devastating loss and figure out how to cope. I have witnessed the grief of my Mom, my sister, my brother, and the rest of our family up close and personal. I have helped make dinners and I have spent my evenings and weekends helping Mom run errands to keep a semblance of normalcy in this chaotic world. We entertain friends who stop by to check on us and we tell them that we're okay. We are learning to accept that our future plans and dreams have changed along with our way of life. I am so glad I was already back in Colorado and that I am in a position to help my family any way I can. I am humbled, every day, by the strength my Mom displays and her continued dedication to our family. I am also amazed at her acceptance of me when I need alone time after a long day even when she needs someone to talk with just as much.

I tell my friends that I am 'doing okay but it sucks'. I don't tell them about the crazy dreams and sleepless nights. How out of control I feel or how scared I am. I don't tell them about the piece of me that feels empty and alone or how much pressure I have put on myself to be the strong one. I don't want to be a burden to them when we only talk once a week; so I fake it. I want them to be happy and I want to protect them from grief that threatens to overwhelm me. It is stupid because I know my friends would listen to me deep into the night but I am too afraid to ask for that.

This past week I feel that I have hit a wall and my energy reserves are empty! My entire body aches with the heaviness of true exhaustion and my mind is only processing the essentials; except at night when I have dreams that ruin any chance of good nights rest. I know I can't keep up this pace and that I need to respect that I have reached my limit. But there is so much to do and everyone keeps moving forward while I am frantically trying to keep pace. Grief isn't kind and it is not logical-- grief kicks you in the ass and the world keeps running full speed ahead.