I went to see Les Mis last night. Not to worry, it did not interrupt my late afternoon or nighttime crying rituals. I look forward to my crying jags. It feels good to let the hurt come out physically. Mostly, I want to scream, to keen at the top of my lungs, but because my mom always comes to hold me and comfort me, I just sob instead. Sometimes while cradling Avalon’s ashes (I know, it’s weird-sounding) and sometimes I can’t sleep unless I hold her little blanket, the only thing she ever wore, in my hands.

Last night I had nightmares that were so bad I actually woke up calling for my mom like a little kid. They scared me. They weren’t about my baby, more about end-of-the-world stuff, guns being shot at me, tidal waves, running for my life, etc.
Why do I have such a hard time sleeping? When I’ve been depressed in the past I slept freakishly long hours, but I basically have to get myself drunk now in order to fall asleep, or take benzos. Then I wake up too early, and too many times. What is there to do do when I’m awake? My only thoughts are of Avalon, how much I miss her, how angry I am at being deprived of a life with her, at her being deprived of a life at all, and how nothing in my life will every be the same again. What is there to do, except cry, and stare into space?
Today I’m getting my hair cut and dyed. I guess it seems like a silly thing to do, but for some reason vanity has become like an armor to me when I leave the house. I won’t go out without more makeup than I’ve ever worn and my hair done. It feels like a mask I can wear, and hide behind. I certainly don’t have the energy to produce a smile.
Because everything reminds me of Avalon right now, and because it was really very well done by Anne Hathaway, I leave this post with these famous lines:
“I had a dream my life would be
so different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
But life has killed the dream I dreamed…”–Les Miserables
Oh, dear. Are you seeking counseling? Even your regular physician can prescribe something to temporarily help with sleep. You need to sleep. Sleep deprivation makes life even harder; you definitely don’t need that right now.
Thinking of you.
I lost my mother recently, in October and I, too, have had trouble sleeping and bad dreams. I keep saying to myself that there is nothing I can do but go through it, feel it every step of the way. I am so touched and troubled by what has happened to you. Everything you have said is so totally true – the horror you feel is totally justified and devastating. Your story, and Avalon’s story, has deeply touched and moved me in the core of my being. I hope that what I am saying can convey how much I am thinking of you you. I am a million miles away, on the other end of the earth and Avalon is now in my thoughts. I know you will make it through…
It doesn’t sound weird that you sleep with her things, and I just chopped all my hair off after not cutting it at all for a year and a half. Sometimes you have to prove you’re in control if something. And it’s nice to look in the mirror and appreciate what I see.
If it weren’t for my BFF vodka I’d never get too sleep. Hopefully that changes for us both.
I’m jumping here from my sweet angel Clara – I read your comment and had to reply. Oh Honey, I’m so sorry for your loss of Avalon and at this time of year – I can’t even imagine. I bet she was so beautiful.
I read a few of your post and it echoed what I was going through just a few months ago and you are totally normal. And most importantly, you are not alone. Take the time you need to grieve and only you know what is right for you. I couldn’t sleep at the beginning either and needed sleep aids (eg. sleeping pills, melatonin). I still sleep with Clara’s blanket and my husband packs it with us even if we are gone for one night. It’s true that nothing will be the same but even through the pain, I’m glad my daughter was apart of my life – even for a short while.