Sharing our pain

Three years today…

All I can think about is how the pain I am feeling is as strong, if not stronger, as the day Mya left us. It's amazing how the brain functions. Every year, the symptoms start in October, my sleep is more and more disturbed, stomach aches get worse and I get more and more distracted, to the point of black outs sometimes. I feel helpless as I get less and less in control of my brain functions and their effect on my body.

I experienced something very similar as I was leaving my apartment in Ashrafieh after the blast. I felt immense grief. This grief that cripples you. The grief that takes away all control over your brain. It's like all the pain I've been feeling over losing Mya was condensed over one event. Every time I would go to clean up the glass and pack up my things, I would just stand there unable to move, only able to cry uncontrollably.

These crippling experiences forced me to accept my weaknesses and with this acceptance, I noticed the wonderful people around me. The people who held my hand, wiped my tears while doing all the work for me. I felt immensely blessed, immensely loved. Amongst all the pain, the grief and the anger, I felt cared for and loved.

The last few years taught me a lot about strength and control. I've always had this great need to control my feelings, or at least what I let others see. I want to appear strong, in parts, like most people, because I don't want to show weakness but mostly because I don't want to burden people around me with my pain. What I feel is so intense that I can't allow myself to put it on to others. So I usually wear a smile and go on with my day, only dealing with my pain when I'm alone. But as the pain got worse, I couldn't just wear a smile and go on. I had to seek help and it is in this process that I realised how important it is to let others help and show their love.

Asking for support, letting go of control and allowing others to love us can be very liberating. In my experience, I felt that it helped me and others. The people who care about me can see through my act but wouldn't know how to help me if I don't ask for help.

I have to admit I'm still at the beginning of this journey and keep my pain to myself most of the time. I was in so much pain today but spent most of my day hiding behind work and only allowed myself 30 minutes to cry before this moment I am taking here to explore my pain.

There are a few days during the year that can get painful for a person grieving. For me, mother's day and Mya and Ella's birthday are particularly painful because I have to celebrate them with Ella and be happy for her. Every time I wonder if the pain will ever ease, if it will ever become bearable.

Until then, I carry this pain with me and hope that Mya is happy wherever she is, free from the pain she felt when she was with us.