There are times when I go into emotional hibernation. The length of this hibernation changes but the intensity is pretty consistent–sort of an undercurrent of heaviness.
I’ve realized this will never go away. The month of April is one of those times because Charles was born in April.
The holidays are another time I huddle up in emotional hibernation, sort of immobilized, indecisive, unfocused and unmotivated. I do talk. But I don’t really want to. I go out. But it’s forced.
I’ve come to realize there will always be these moments–my time to grieve my boy. To love my child. Remember him and be unapologetically sad and dull. I’m allowed.
Emotional hibernation is curling up with grief. It’s embracing it and allowing it in.
Then it’s about allowing it to leave without feeling guilty.
It does lift. The clouds do part. I do wake up. I do live again.