The Grief that Follows

I read an article somewhere that talked about how, when you’re diagnosed with a chronic illness, the doctors never tell you that at some point, you will go through a grieving period. After reading that article, a lightbulb went off…it’s true; no one tells you that you’ll go through a grieving process.

I’ve been in and out of it for months…possibly a year or more. I grieve for many things. I’m frustrated that I no longer have the energy I once did and even angrier that I don’t have it to give to Ava. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. I’m fed up with the doctors’ appointments, the testing, and especially the medical bills that seem to be endless. I’m sad that I’m no longer the woman I was once.

Four years ago, I was working three jobs and working on my bachelor’s degree simultaneously and still had the want and energy to ensure dinner was on the table every night and i went to bed to a clean house. As recently as mid to late 2014, I was able to complete my master’s degree, work part time, and raise my newborn child. It was tough to say the least but with the help of my professors and the will to forge ahead, I managed to graduate with a 3.7 GPA. Sure, I was tired at the end of the day, but my body and mind still had the stamina to go go go…that’s long gone.

I go through periods (days, weeks, or even months) when I’m accepting of my limitations and I’m at peace with the cards I’ve been dealt. Then I have days when I throw myself a giant pity party and wonder what I did in a past life to deserve the bad karma I have in this life. The only thing that remains constant is my acceptance of an early grave; I’m not afraid of death. I’m furious with death for inevitably taking me away from my family much sooner than they and I deserve; but unafraid none the less. My therapist says that the grief will come in waves and I’ll go through the stages multiple times; she never did say when or if it would ever stop. Sure, hope it does…

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