Dealing With Grief

No one really wants to talk about the kind of stuff that will rake up bad feelings, remind them of sad times, drag them into darkness, when they are still trying to convince themselves that they are just doing OK, just OK. But when company doctors and company managers suggest the benefits of grief counseling you kinda feel like it's your duty to do this. At 4pm on a Monday. That's your allotted grief time.
No one quite prepares you for the stomach tightening, anxiety ridden feeling as you are heading towards the session. Or the headaches left over after the tear fest agony of yet again going over the finer details of the events leading up to and including death. Assessing the utter numbness that still resides inside you and makes you sick and dizzy. But apparently it helps.
Apparently keeping busy is ok, as long as you are not avoiding the issue.
Remembering each tiny pin prick injection into our beautiful little girls soft pink heel was only the start of the things we are trying to forget continuing to the day her skin became less pink but pale and alabaster. These are things that I have every right to avoid, these are my car crashes and nightmares, these are the reason I still wake screaming down the house and scaring my dear neighbours.
So I'm not so sure about the counseling just yet.
I have an appointment to meet the local Reverand of St Marks Church tomorrow, I need to convince him that Ellie was special enough to deserve a tree planted in her memory across the road in the church field. I may be calling on people to email with a petition if I am unsuccessful.
Wish me luck.