I feel drifting apart from everything and everyone, I’m searching for healing, but the book from the library has been on the shelves for three years and no one have ever opened it…
Nobody needed to know what to do when their child just vanishes…
Some days are better, some are worse, some just feel like a deep well, the light barely shines in. I try to do the things I put on my to do list, but my desire to finish these tasks is just inhibited by the feeling of pointlessness. It’s strange to feel this way, to know it’s ok to feel this way, to know it might be just temporary…
The picture of my beautiful girl in my mind is now fuzzy, I stare at photographs and the life pictured on them is so distant, I start to doubt it ever existed at all. But all around me are the silent proofs of that life, Sara’s bedroom, her toys, her artwork around the house.
The deep helplessness is illuminated by glimpses of hope, but yet I feel like the fool building the sand castle on the beach. With every wave of life the foundations of my castle are being eroded, taken away by the merciless force of the water while I frantically add, repair, improve, not noticing the tide is coming in…
The fear of my failure is clenching my heart and I’m scared what I would do if I fail to be a mother again. Can I accept it? Can I live with this broken dream forever? I know I will, but right now the future seams like mountains covered by very dark clouds and I don’t like rain…