Keeping the suitcase closed

I haven't been to the therapist in a while, a few weeks now. And I'm not sure I'll be able to go for a couple more weeks. Part of me wants to go, and part of me doesn't.

When I first lost my daughter, I forced myself to think about her--both old memories and the events surrounding her death--constantly. As the year went on, I realized I sometimes need to put my memories aside in order to function (see my earlier posts on the subject). Now, there are days/times when I would really like to just pretend it didn't happen.

Going to the counselor makes that impossible. I've actually found myself getting anxious when I drive to her office lately. It's as if I'm in a relatively comfortable groove, and going to see her pulls me out of that. Or maybe I just fear it will, because we don't always address the grief or trauma directly.

I guess you could say I'm taking a brief from grief work. But someone told me I shouldn't completely do that. I've been thinking about that for a couple of days. Basically, she suggested that if I'm not going to the therapist, I should read some of my books on grief, post daily to my blog, write in my journal, do something so I'm not completely leaving it behind.

I'm not sure what I really want. Maybe that's what I'm doing--trying to figure out what I want. Between being busy at work and my toddler not sleeping lately, I am exhausted. And that makes it harder to know what I want (besides sleep). Sometimes thoughts of my daughter are comforting. Other times everything makes me miss her, makes me sad, angry, and exhausted.

So I think actually it's a question of figuring out what makes me feel better for now. If today I need to post here, I will. And if tomorrow I need to work like a madwoman, I will. I have learned that choosing to never open your suitcase can be really, really bad. That's what the people who never move forward do. I don't have that option--I have another child I choose to live for, live with, and for her, I must move forward.