Riding the Roller Coaster

For the first two weeks after Lauren died I was on an emotional roller coaster. I would slowly climb up the steep incline of disbelief and denial then surge down the other side zipping and zagging through turns of intense anguish and despair. I was nauseous a majority of the time and struggled most days with a headache from crying.
My emotions really fluctuated wildly the week I returned to work. On the way home my first day back I had to stop by Costco for some items Kevin and I needed. I walked through the warehouse passing other patrons as I perused the aisles. All I wanted to do was scream! I wanted to yell at everyone "Why are you all walking around like normal? Don't you know I am heartbroken? Can't you all tell to look at me that I am a complete wreck?" They just kept walking and shopping like everything was right with the world.
The very next morning I attended my first meeting with all of my co workers in the staffing department. My emotions were now the exact opposite from the day before. I worried all the way to the building about how my colleagues would treat me. I didn't want them to be uncomfortable and treat me like I was broken or damaged goods. I was still me and still a professional for Pete's sake.
So...within a twenty four hour span I was angry over the lack of recognition by strangers and anxiety ridden about being viewed differently by those who know me. Talk about a roller coaster ride. I could hardly believe how quickly my emotions shifted.
But through all of the ups and downs, twists and turns, one emotion remained constant. Ever since I heard my daughter was gone I have felt lonely. This may seem odd considering all of the family and friends I had been surrounded with since that day but I just couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness.
I think back to when I went through my divorce. I used to chastise myself for being so ridiculous about the whole thing. My head told me "Hey, it's just one guy...there are a ton more out there...move on!" but my heart wasn't getting the message. I used to think how emotionally crippling it felt when the one person you wanted to still love you stops, you are convinced that no one else ever will.
What I was grappling with now was a million times worse. I could have been encircled by thousands upon thousands of people and still feel completely alone because the one person I wanted with me is not there. No one can bring her back and no one can ever take her place. She was my Lauren, my daughter, my friend.
I have evened out emotionally a little since the first couple of weeks but I still never leave the house without my waterproof mascara and yes, I still hate it. I attempt to keep my crying private. In the car and shower mostly. I am not sure if I will ever exit this roller coaster for good but I hope to take a break from it here and there. I never really liked roller coasters anyway.