Letters to Zachary: May 14, 2024

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Letters to Zachary: May 14, 2024

/ Post by Codi Lindsey

by Jason Tuttle

Dear Zachary,

     I’ve been sad more than normal lately. I thought I was doing OK, but life decided otherwise. It also does not help that my job has been ramped up and more stressful than normal. I feel like I don’t have an outlet to relieve some or any stress. Sure, writing does help, but I need something more. I am not sure what that “more” is. Usually, spending time with you helps relieve a lot of stress, but I don’t have you here. So, what do I do?

     Grief is HARD. It’s the hardest challenge that I have ever encountered. Grief is hard because it takes away choice. It takes away my choice of having you here, hugging you, talking to you, telling you that I love you, goofing off with you, and many other choices. Grief is hard because it’s so unique to each and every person it touches. No two of us are the same. Even though we all have the commonality of grief, no one truly knows what I am going through so it’s hard to relate with many aspects of grief. Grief is hard because it is a constant search to fill something that cannot be filled. It’s like always needing sleep, but never getting it or getting enough of it.

     I know that I have become overly repetitive, like a broken record in my letters and content. I know that it’s the same tired, old sentiments. As any parent whose lost a child would feel, it’s understandable that all I want is the one thing that I cannot have back (you). I still don’t know how to process all this grief sh…stuff and I am not sure I ever will. My mind just cannot wrap around the idea of you being gone.

     I have immersed myself in all things grief as a way to stay busy and distract myself. Yes, I have grieved and dealt with the emotion. I am not avoiding it. However, I am not sure immersing myself so much into the grief community is a good thing or a bad thing since I dove headfirst into the pool. It has certainly had its positives and helped me along the way. I just wonder if I am in it too much, you know? I wonder if the total immersion into the community is just grief overload? Maybe I should take a step back? I honestly don’t know.

     At the end of the day, I’m tired of feeling sad. I’m tired of the loss of choice and control. I’m tired of feeling like I am a “ticking time bomb” of anger and frustration. I’m tired of all the stress I feel like I am under. I’m tired of sleepless or sleep depriving nights. I’m tired of feeling like I am in a fight with everything.

     I know it’s not a very manly thing to say, but I just want to scream at times. I want to take out my frustration on something. I want to blow off a lot of steam. I want people to feel what I do (even though I know they won’t). I feel like I am between a rock and a hard place as the saying goes.

     I will say that it does bring me joy that my words resonate with people. It brings me joy that people have become regulars to the blog and look for new content. It brings me joy that the blog is getting bigger and reaching a larger audience. It brings me joy that so many people have opened their podcasts and platforms to me for me to share our story. It brings me joy being able to collaborate with some of the names in the grief community. All of this does make me smile but, under that smile, there’s always an undercurrent of sadness. It’s the constant sadness that I’m sick of but will never get rid of. 

     I hope that this current streak of deeper sadness is just a short-lived occurrence, but we’ll see. I guess I’ll have to muscle through as always. I have no choice despite not having the energy. My sadness makes me miss you more intensely. I just want you back. *SIGH*

Love, Dad


Borrowed from https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61552174684952

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