Last May when I lost the twins, I remember feeling completely lost on how to find any type of comfort in my daily routine. For about a month, I backed off of everything I’d done prior that I loved – mostly writing other places.
When I started up again, I felt extremely guilty for talking about anything else but the boys. I felt bad for wanting to write at Babble and Military Family about something other than loss. I wrestled constantly with sharing my grief online, with any type of social media that I shared it on. I felt as if every time I said anything normal, everyone was going to wonder if I was “all better” or “over it” or the worst:
Even though very few people made any type of remarks making me feel like that, I still had the nagging feeling that grief and loss should be done alone. Private. And all enveloping – you grieved completely and totally or it wasn’t really grief. You did it every moment of every day and you couldn’t fathom doing anything else or it wasn’t really grief. You didn’t really love them that much if you could talk about anything else or wanted to share it publicly.