It was recently expressed to me that I have changed. The comment was made after a seemingly ordinary conversation. I suppose it was because I expressed an opposing view to this person. In the past, even though I disagreed on any particular subject, I would politely nod and pretend to agree. I quizzically stared at this person wondering if I had misheard their comment. I think I was more dumbfounded than upset. I sat up straight, head cocking back and forth in a ‘Oh hell you did not just say that’ type of way. “Changed?…yes you are one thousand percent correct. I have changed.”
Everything about me has changed. My sense of humor is sporadic, my mental state unstable and my enthusiasm has sadly diminished. My temperament, my patience, my faith, my courage, and strength falter me more often than not. I HAVE changed. Nothing about me will ever me the same. I will never be the Cynthia I was before. How can I be, and how dare anyone question who I have become? Part of me, my identity and what defined me was was ripped away from me. The very important piece of me can never ever be replaced. A piece of my heart, my soul, my life will forever be incomplete.
I didn’t ask for this change. It was violently thrust upon me. Though my life came with it’s bumps and bruises, I was innocently content with it. Or maybe I was naive in assuming that as I went through life, I would escape with only bumps and bruises. How was I to know that I would be thrown into a dark hole with no hope of escape. I would have never imagined that I would have to endure such a horrific event that would leave me twisted and mangled in a heap of unbearable pain. How can anyone think that we, that lost our babies, can go through the pain, despair and unbearable heart break and expect us to come out the same? Anyone that has not been tortured by the death of a child, does not have a right to question my demeanor, my personality, my attitude towards life. Don’t ask why “It’s been a year, when are you going to be back to your old self?” You won’t like my answer. There is no old self, no ever going back. If there was a way of magically going back, I would have gone back 384 days ago. You may however, quietly and to yourself wonder why I am different and tell yourself that you miss the old me. Believe me, I miss her too.
Yes, I have changed..I am a completely different person. I am broken…at times I feel defeated. My heart is shattered…never to be put together again.
I will never be who I once was…death has forever changed me