It is especially so for those of us who have truly experienced it at its worst. Losing a child qualifies, I think.
Having a dead baby puts me into a unique category of people. They're out there, somewhere, though they don't talk about it much, and they have experienced what I am going through in some manner or another.
Most people who are close to me, those who love me and are hurting for me and so forth have not had an experience anything like mine. They have no knowledge of the kind of grief that I now know first-hand.
Some of them pretend to be experts. They inform me that I should be done with my grief. They've decided that I choose to feel grief. They believe that I should change my perspective, come out of it, and get over it.
This tells me that they do not understand a single thing about grief.
I don't choose for my emotions to overwhelm me. I do not choose to be attacked by myself when least expected. I do not choose to be angry over nothing. I do not choose to cry. I do not choose to lose sleep because my thoughts run rampant. I do not choose to have my loss thrown at me and shoved in my face every day, multiple times. I do not choose this fight.
And yet here I am.
You see, everyone else, they are affected. They have emotions that are caused by this situation. They have been fighting as well, only their fight is pretty much over. Compared to mine, it hardly exists. They suffered, but from an indirect hit. They've fought their fight and had ample numbers, superior implements, and they have won swiftly and easily.
I, on the other hand, am engaged in a war...one that has multiple battles over varied terrain and in poor weather conditions...and I will be fighting, to an extent, for the rest of my life.
There is a huge difference, and yet some believe with all that they are that I choose this for my life...that I am still experiencing grief because I am choosing to. They have no experience in these matters, as this did not happen to them, but they are the experts.
I find that extremely frustrating.
And yet, they are not to be swayed; they will not listen; there is nothing I can do to even begin to explain how things really are.
On the other hand, there are those who, if they do not hear from me in a day or two, assume the absolute worst. They think I am suicidal and that my life is in ruins. They have no confidence in me. They believe I will fail.
Part of my life is ruined. My life as I knew it, my life as I thought it was going to be is ruined.
I am not ruined.
How am I supposed to deal with all of that? Is it not enough that I am dealing with my baby girl, Addison Leigh, being buried in the ground far, far away? Is it not enough that I have that loss, that devastation, that waste to deal with?
I cannot deal with all of the experts informing me that I am doing this wrong. I cannot deal with those who assume that I am ruined and will fail. I do not know how to deal with them and quite frankly, I spend most of my effort dealing with losing my baby girl.
I want to stop having to focus on what others are thinking of me. I want to just focus on dealing with my grief. When people inundate me with "expert advice" and their own personal worries, it sucks me out of whatever progress I've made and plops me down right back at the beginning all over again.
It is a war, people. I am the general. I am in the thick of it; I have first-hand knowledge and know better than most what is needed, what works and what does not. Right now I have too many politicians, cabinet members and commander-in-chiefs in the war-room spouting at me. If it continues, then they'll be right, all of them: I will fail.
I'm probably going to take a break from the blogging and face-booking. I won't be gone, just not so present. I will write about what I need to in order to heal. I am not climbing the closest bridge in order to jump, nor am I choosing to have grief. No one chooses to have a dead baby; therefore, no one chooses to have the grief associated with it. Please let me grieve. It is healthy and it is the only way to heal.