Stages of grief.

Denial. Our first reaction to overwhelming emotional pain is usually shock and disbelief: “No, this cannot be happening.” Denial is like an emotional anesthetic that protects us until we become able to deal with a painful reality.

Anger. When denial wears thin, reality finally sinks in. Anger erupts. Anger may be directed at God, a doctor, “bad luck,” one’s spouse, self, or the world in general. Anger may be vented in a rational or an irrational way.

-Guilt. Self-directed anger may be accompanied by guilt, blaming oneself for what happened or for somehow failing to prevent it. For persons of religious faith, anger toward God may also stimulate guilt feelings. (Those feeling guilty for anger toward God may be comforted by the thought that God, who created the human emotional system, fully understands the anger of grief and is compassionate toward those who grieve.)

-Depression. This may be the longest lasting stage. This is the phase of true mourning, where one “hits bottom.” Depression may include periods of crying, feelings of sadness or hopelessness, irritability, difficulty concentrating, sleeplessness or sleeping too much, overeating or the loss of appetite.

I have become this crazy moody bitch who can’t make up her mind and it’s interfering with everything I do. I don’t want to be around anyone, I don’t want to talk to anyone. All I want to do is dig a hole and hide in it for awhile and pretend I don’t exist.  I have moments of happiness but they only seem to last about ten minutes before the next round of tears or pure anger comes to torture me. I want all this to just go away. My plan was the give my beautiful little man to amazing parents who could take care of him. That’s the hardest part, I was trying to do the absolute best thing for my child and clearly that wasn’t enough. God just took him away like the asshole he is.  Don’t say this was His will. I’m already a little pissed off at him at this point. It doesn’t make me feel better, it actually makes me feel a little more mad. I don’t see the good in my loss or his will for it all. All I want to do is yell at him for doing this to me. All my life I feel as though He has been after me and taking my son officially made me feel nothing but hatred for Him. I barley have good days anymore. I hate having to explain myself to everyone because all I get is their pity. Apart of me just wants to end it all. The pain and suffering is just to real for me. I’m hanging on to the little bit of faith I have left and lately it doesn’t seem like enough. I’m trying o hard to move on and be somewhat happy but I just can’t. My boyfriend doesn’t even want to be with me anymore because I’m too unpredictable, not that I blame him. If I could be anyone else, I would be. I hate the person I’m becoming. I don’t recognize my reflection in the mirror anymore. I’m just done, with everything. I want my fucking son back. This isn’t fair. I thought what I was doing was right… My heart is filled with so much hatred and bitterness. Will this ever be a end? Will I ever be happy again?


“Remember, even your worst days only have twenty-four hours.”