Where was I? What have I been doing? Why did I not find the need to write, after 8 months?
I'm here, very much here. I took a consulting job in October of 2012. As soon as I started working there I realized that I had to live a double life. No one other then the founders of the company knew me from before. They were the only ones who knew about my journey and my loss. Everyone else looked at me as another employee, hired because she is good at what she does and coming in to do her work and leaving to go back to her family, or whatever it is she does.
I kept looking at all my colleagues and then all the people I met post Amaey and made a decision that no one needs to know about me. It's very personal and I don't see the need to share. They did not know Amaey, I don't want to trivialize his beautiful life in the few words I will here, oh I'm so sorry for your loss. At work I did not want to be judged by what I was accomplishing or not, by the burden of my grief. That was my burden to carry.
And so days became weeks and then months. I had so much to write, so many conflicts to talk about, so many moments of running out to the bathroom because something made me cry. But to the world within my office, it was nothing... no one even noticed me get up, or wipe my eyes. No one wondered why my cubicle is so sparse. My husband stopped by work once and made that observation. And I said to him, I'm anonymous other then what I'm here for so instead of decorating my area to show my design philosophies, or the vacation photos, or quotes I like, I prefer to share all of that with my work.
And so that it how it has been since October 1 2012.
So why the sudden urge to write again?
Because I gave myself permission to do so. Because I don't have to prove anything to myself, anymore.
I went back to work full-time, in an office setting, after 6 years and I did not want to be held hostage to that fact. I knew I was good at what I did but I did not know how it would be, going back to work and living this new life without Amaey, without the hospital, without one part of my life. I did not know how I would be able to handle people, ordinary people, going about in their life and seeing them day-to-day and they seeing me back but not knowing that I was still grieving and broken inside. I did not know how I would handle the responsibilities bestowed onto me. I knew that people were not looking at me differently, because they did not know me. But I knew that I was critically analyzing every move I was making. Every word that came out of my mouth seemed odd. Lunches, went with me suddenly bitting my tongue when people started talking about their kids.
I knew that if I talked about my past 6 years, they would not know what to say. And they would start weighing every comment they would make. I would suddenly be reminded of my loss even though no one meant to cause any pain. So being a ghost, someone that comes in and leaves felt safe. That life felt like one I could lead and that left me to my thoughts, my conversations. I take a walk every day at work and that is my time to think of what Amaey would say about all the things that happened that day. I wasn't sharing him with anyone or apologizing for anything, or being left out from any conversations. I did not feel like people suddenly stopped talking because I walked in. I wasn't the poor employee who had been through this immense tragedy. I was just I.
But I don't need to be be worried anymore. I don't have anything to prove to myself. I'm comfortable being I. And there is one person to thank for this... a dear friend who believed in me and gave me this opportunity to work with her. She knows who she is and I'm forever grateful. If it weren't for her, I might not have had the chance to pick up life and go with it. I had stopped believing in the silver lining... I still don't know what it is, but I'm noticing it.