Wondering and Wandering

I'm wondering if physical things -- time of year, weather, similar circumstances -- can trigger emotional things -- memories, grief, flashbacks. I'm no psychologist, but it makes sense that it could be true. And it sure feels like it is true.

I've been a mess lately. I'll just be honest. It feels like I am going backwards in the "grief process" (whatever that means) rather than making any progress. The memories are the haunting kind. The darkness is overwhelming; especially late at night, the one time my house is generally quiet. I don't want to take a nap during the day, even when I'm exhausted, afraid that I won't be tired enough that night to fall asleep before my husband. I can't stand being alone, knowing that's all it will take to fall apart. But I also often feel paralyzed to be with people, because I don't have any emotional energy. My babies are God's comfort to me on a daily basis, yet I am not the mother I want to be.

People say "time heals." But I've said for almost two years now that that is ridiculous. I get what they mean: with time, you will heal. And I used to think that would be true. But I don't think it always is. Maybe it can be. Maybe it should be. But it's not so far.

I've never done this before, so I don't know what's "normal." I feel like I'm doing something wrong -- or not doing something right -- because I've never heard anyone else talk about it. I know people have certain things that trigger memories, bring sadness, etc. But I feel like I could relate better to a war veteran: Unpredictable flashbacks. Depression. Anxiety. Isolation.
I feel like a spoiled child to admit these things. Like I'm trying to be dramatic and act like I have pain that no one else has ever experienced. And I know this isn't true. While my relationship with my Daddy was something special and rare, grief this deep is not rare. Other people are close to their parents and lose them early. People lose their children. People experience horrors of war. And I have seven siblings who lost the same person I did. So why am I the one who can't move on?! Why am I, the oldest of six of them, acting like the biggest baby?

I know it goes deeper than just losing my Daddy. It's about life. It's about my fairy-tale way of thinking and seeing this life, being shattered by my worst nightmare coming true. It's about my faith being put through the fire. It's about God carrying me through an earthly hell to the other side where I can honestly say, in a way I couldn't before, "God is good even if_____." Its about knowing Him deeper and depending on Him completely.
I still have questions. It still seems unfair, harsh, pointless. I still question Him. But I also trust Him. I'm not sure I knew what that really meant before...

So all this rambling is to say that all I can say is...whether what I'm feeling is normal or right or wrong, its an opportunity to run to my Father's open arms. If only to bawl my eyes out. If only to look into His good and loving eyes and cry "why?!" Because I think maybe He wants to remind me that, just as He carried me two years ago, He will carry me now.

I just have to quit wandering...