Talking

I've had many comments about how open I am to talking about my grief. To be honest, I don't have much choice. I am the kind of person who used to be very private. I just don't let many people close. However, losing Abigail has made it necessary for me to reach out to others. If you had visited me those first few weeks, and some of you did, you would have witnessed my verbal vomiting. I basically just dumped all I was thinking on feeling on each and every person who walked through my door. And ask my friend Jenny if you think I am exaggerating. That early grief was so overbearing that I felt I would physically rip apart if I didn't. I told everyone everything. I have a little more control now, but at the same time, I still think it is so important for grieving parents to feel like they can do that. I freaked more than a few people out by telling them all my deepest emotions-ha! I scared more than a few people away. Some people are still scared of me. But, at the same time, I found close friends, and we became close fast since I had no walls. I don't want other grieving parents to feel that they need to hide their pain. Talking is vital and necessary. Your grief is not something you need to hide or feel like you need to carry alone. You can't do it. It doesn't make you stronger to pretend you are ok. In reality, it probably takes more strength to say you need someone to help you through this, or, as in my case, lots of someones. I just want to thank each of you for putting up with my verbal vomit those first weeks and months, and for continuing to put up with it now. I have definitely learned that my filter needs to go. That is not to say that I need to say things that are hurtful or damaging, but that I need to speak up for what really matters and not just get carried away in the superficial monotony of daily conversation and never deal with bigger things. I've never had much patience for superficial anyway, but I am more likely to actually tell you that now. If that makes you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable to hear about grief or orphans or anything else I need to talk about, I'm sorry. But somethings are more important than being comfortable. I can't settle for just being comfortable anymore.