Finding My New Normal...

Am I venting? Is it the Holidays? Am I just Angry, or is this part of the Grieving process?

Today is a bad day and I miss Autumn. Maybe these posts are too deep to put on here, but this is me. I made this so I could get feelings out. Sometimes I could burst inside with the feelings I have. I could never tell anyone my thoughts, because I don't know how. Give me a computer and the emotions flow. this is my therapy. I wear my feelings on my sleeve about Autumn and if it is too much, so be it. It has been so long since anyone acknowledged her, and maybe that is how it goes. I have no expectations of anyone else for Autumn, I just miss her. Today, I need to vent. Even though it is 4 years later I hurt and I miss HER.

I found these quotes, don't know who started them, but I have taken the liberty of changing quite a few of them and adding new ones, to fit my needs personally.

Finding My New Normal

Normal for me is waking up every day, praying that this is all a bad dream.
Normal for me is going through my day, knowing that this is not what I had planned.
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile knowing that someone important is missing from all the important events in my family's life.
Normal is having new friends, that also share a similar loss.
Normal is seeing a bouquet of beautiful flowers, and then when I smell their fragrance, I am reminded once again of Autumn's funeral death.
Normal is feeling like I can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand 'what ifs' and 'whys' go through my head constantly. Could I have saved her?
Normal is reliving the day Autumn died continuously through my eyes, mind and heart.
Normal is having those closest to me, tell me to 'get over it. Life is for the living.' "no one wants to hear about Autumn over and over."
Normal is having the TV on the minute you walk into the house to have noise, otherwise the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like they would be Autumn's age and then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind because of my broken heart.
Normal is telling the story of Autumn's death as if it were an everyday common place event, and then seeing the horror in someones eyes at how awful it sounds, and yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor Autumn's memory and her birthday and survive those days, trying to find the balloon or remembrance card that fits the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really...
Normal is wondering who I am going to upset, because of her memory.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight or sound of something special that reminds me of Autumn.
Normal is having some people afraid to even mention Autumn's name in fear of upsetting me.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is that after Autumn's death, everyone else goes on with their lives but we continue to grieve her loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months and years after her death, the grieving sometimes gets worse, not better.
Normal is having those closest to me, not understand that.
Normal is listening to people compare events in their life to your loss. Losing a parent or grandparent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health and my family's survival depends on it.
Normal is realizing that I do sometimes cry everyday and it is OK.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone and feeling I have to have complete control of everything. I'm scared to lose someone else, or to lose control of something else in my life.
Normal is feeling a closeness and common bond with friends on the Internet all over the USA, but never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is being too tired to care if I paid the bills, cleaned the house, did the laundry or if there is any food in the house.
Normal is wondering this time whether I am going to say I have one child or two. Yet when I say I have one child to avoid the situation of explaining her death, I feel horrible as if I have betrayed Autumn.
Normal is asking God why he took my child's life instead of mine?
Normal is knowing I will never get over Autumn's death. Not in a day, nor the rest of my life.
Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for me to feel, so that everyone else around me will think I am "normal."
Normal to me is thinking that you think I am crazy or that I've 'lost it.'