S.T.U.G. not stung although that’s what it feels like. It is an acronym and it means
It is the psychological / therapist term for what I am experiencing. The times when I’m driving along and a song comes on the radio that reminds me of Connor (the most recent one was “Boy”, by Lee Brice). Or yesterday when I was scrolling through my texts from my boss looking for something specific. All of a sudden I was in the time frame of texts from Connor’s accident. The tears started to flow uncontrollably, and emotionally I was right back in the PICU for those 12 days. The emotional roller coaster of hell, even though I knew the final outcome. I just couldn’t help hoping that things would be different if I hoped hard enough.
Some of these upsurges I can predict and therefore deal with. Things like holidays, birthdays (my upcoming 50th) and Connor’s upcoming 18th Birthday in March. What would be his graduation from Franklin County Technical School. Those are all upsurges I can predict and prepare for. Ones like the text incident, songs, memories and pictures on Facebook. Those just catch me out of the blue. One minute I am fine, the next I am a blubbering mess. I realize I can’t live in a bubble, as much as I would like to at times. I need to inhabit the real world, the world that will often cause me pain and heartache.
This is the world that a Grieving Mom lives in, we get up everyday and we put one foot in front of the other. We plaster a smile on our faces and face the world. We fake it until we make it.