Seven Weeks

That is how long I have been on a journey of healing my body and mind. To be fair, this is just the latest stage in a two year and three month journey of grief and healing, but it is a new stage. It was the second week of January when I began a complete overhaul of my diet and lifestyle. The changes I am making are intended to help heal my heart (literally and figuratively) and mind just as much as to heal my body.

As I have shared before, it wasn’t until the start of our third year that I began to feel a sense of hope and a determination not to let myself drown in my tears. Until then, I simply didn't have the spoons. The pain is still present every single day. I realized, however, as I discovered quite early in this nightmare, that for me to survive meant for me to change. Whether that change be to the space we live in, the traditions we follow, the music I listen to, or the shows and movies I watch. We have games, like Stratego, that we used to enjoy as a family but I cannot fathom playing again. I have my playlist “Songs after 2021” that I am building because I can’t bear the heartbreak of hearing songs that Charlie loved. And my new business that I am likewise developing is a way for me to release the past and embrace a future without constant reminders of our Charlie. The past for me brings little more than pain.

The next change is me. I am on a strict macronutrient-based diet — I eat what I like, so long as it includes my day’s recommended protein, carbs, and fat. I also workout nearly every day. My goals are not easy to achieve but I am determined. I will not be the same person I was when Charlie died, either mentally or physically. That is my both my reality and ultimate goal.

The benefits, which I am already beginning to feel, are many. I already have a healthy appetite, better sleep habits, and no daily feelings of sluggishness. I am losing an average of 1.6lbs a week and building muscle at the same time. My metabolism is more flexible and I’m feeling altogether healthier.

This is not to say that all has been smooth running. Two weeks ago, our good friends lost their beautiful 16 year old son very suddenly to flu and pneumonia. Learning that Finlay, whose hand I had shaken only days before, was gone — just like that — shook me in a way only one who intimately knows the pain of traumatic child-loss can be. I witnessed in our friends the devastating pain that we suffered in December 2021. It has been awful to watch our dear friends suffer in the worst way anyone ever can and to feel their pain so viscerally.

A week after Finlay died, the community, family, and friends joined together for a candlelight vigil in Finlay’s memory. It was beautiful, peaceful, highly emotional, and much appreciated by Finlay’s family. Most people could walk away from that vigil with sadness but go on with their lives the next day. The outcome for my family was that James was physically ill for five days afterward. Research shows that emotional pain activates the same regions of the brain as physical pain. So it’s no wonder we can get so sick with grief. There’s an emotional and physical toll that comes with the triggers that life brings. We are still learning to carry the grief of losing Charlie over two years later, and no doubt will still be in ten years and beyond.

The stress of grief also plays with our metabolism. My health regimen has been guided by a tool called Lumen. Lumen tells me, on the basis of the CO2 content of my breath, what metabolic state my body is in. The stress of losing Charlie zapped me of my energy and helped sabotage my body’s ability to break down nutrients effectively. It’s not that I didn’t contribute to my physical downfall, but my body and brain weren’t doing me any favours either. That’s why I wasn’t surprised at all to see my CO2 spike in the days following Finlay’s death. At least I am now aware of this stress-driven cortisol release and I can measure its impact on me.

This journey that we are on is a lifelong one. There is no quick fix for broken hearts and grief lurks in all the most unsuspecting places and moments. Hopefully the changes I am making will help make me more resilient. I am dragging James on a parallel journey of his own. He, too, has lost over 13 pounds in the past 40 days. More importantly, he is becoming  stronger and, hopefully, gaining some confidence in the remarkable young man he doesn’t yet see but we know him to be. I can’t wait to see where we both are in our journeys six months from now.