I’ve always thought of myself as a glass half-full type person. Never the outwardly bubbly, or overly cheerful type, but I’d definitely say that I’m a positive thinker. I don’t typically complain about much anything, at all, or ever really, and I can usually find something positive to say about anyone or just about any given situation.
I still consider myself to be fairly positive today, even now. I do still try, anyway.
I try, not to focus on what’s missing, what’s gone terribly wrong, and the life I lost; a life more important than my own. I try to find the positive in my situation, which so far, has proven nothing, if not impossible. But I try. There are just no positives to be found when it comes to your own child’s death. No matter what the circumstances. Absolutely none.
Now, in my mind, my glass is no longer full or even half full. It never will, or could be that simple again. It’s much more complicated now. My glass will remain both half full and half empty, simultaneously, for the rest of my days. I do try though, and I remain as positive as anyone could possibly expect of me, at least anyone with a little sense or compassion.
I’ve managed to keep my over-all positive personality intact. I can still see the positive in others. I still think positively in many, many different ways and I do still recognize how much remains in my cup. At the same time, I also recognize how I cannot positive think my way out of this place, this living nightmare that I face everyday.
So there you have it folks, I’ve become a walking contradiction.
I’m a positive person, AND my glass is half empty. It’s a battle I fight internally and beat myself up with, every day.