I Am Not Okay

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm not".

"Huh?"

"I am not okay."

Silence.

"I am not okay and I don't know if I ever will be. I do not know who I am anymore. I will never be as happy as I was when he was alive. I will never be the same. That scares me. It is a lot for anyone to deal with and I do not know what to do."

Silence.

That is a conversation I had the other day. That is the first time I have said that out loud to anyone that wasn't my therapist or part of my grief support since Gabriel passed away.

I am not upset over the silence. Sad, maybe, but that has become an expected reaction to anything. Well, everything really. Silence is the only way to respond to that, let's be honest. I absolutely do not want to hear "I'm sorry" or "I know how that feels" or anything at all. A hug. That is the only thing I could possibly want at this point. Someone to hold me. But it has to be the right person, and I have to actually want to be touched.

So, yeah, as you can read, I am not okay.

I worry that I will fail my other children. That they will feel neglected because I am no longer emotionally available. Especially my daughter. She is the youngest and only girl. How the hell do I guide her, lead her to become the woman I know she can be when I can no longer be the woman I was learning to be?

One of the last conversations I had with Gabriel was about me being okay. He told me he was worried about me and his father. I told him that right now we are not okay and we won't be for a long time but I promised some day we will be.

I miss hugging him. The day I can put my arms around him and hug him again will be the day I will truly feel okay.

Until then, I am not okay. And that is okay.