I feel lousy, sad, weepy, thinking a lot about the boys and the hospital stuff. What was supposed to be. Lots of lump in my throat, stinging in my eyes and nose. My thoughts are scattered; when I step back later and review, I shake my head because I can't believe I even went there.
I'm sadder than usual, but I am able to laugh a little. We went out to the movies yesterday, and I sort of enjoyed it, even though I was bitchy to C a lot. I know that I'm better than I was at the beginning. But it feels like March instead of June. The balance is not as positive as even a few weeks ago. Up and down, up and down.
I'm more jumpy, easily startled than I've been. Angry. More sensitive to violence or gore (we saw Ir.on Man) than, well, than I expected. I'm distracted, having a hard time focusing again, feeling more anxiety, too.
I had a meeting with one of my profs about my summer projects to make up work and, though most of it was just fine, I was acutely aware of what I did not know, of what academic progress I was not making. This prof is kind of my (unofficial) mentor. His intelligence is tangible and his humanity huge. After meeting with him, I picked up C, we went home, and I curled up on the couch against C for hours. (Of course, I didn't just run upstairs and hide, but it didn't seem
So I couldn't go to B's father's services and she was okay. I was starting to get panicky just thinking about getting on a plane to go . But I can't identify the source of the panic: was it because it was so fast? or was it because I hadn't been to this airport since I dropped off my dad when he visited in December, when everything seemed to be okay?
I'm sure that some of this is my own grief, too. I've known B since 1985. I can't count the number of Easter or Christmas dinners I'd had there since I was a teenager. Countless evenings at her house making cookies or watching movies or just hanging out in the kitchen talking with B. He wasn't very "fatherly" to me, but we had a nice, easy relationship. He was always happy to hear from me when I called, and B's mom sent us our first care package of NY bagels after we moved here. So I guess another part of my family is gone now.
It seems like I'm getting overly-anxious about everything. Too sad. Still pretty immobile.
So, I'm asking: Is this just where I am in the grief or is it a real setback? I'm finding it almost impossible to pick up the phone to call someone trauma-related. Though I am making sure I make it to therapy every week. It helps, but I don't think it's enough. I guess I do need more help.
And that makes me cry more, like I'm a freak who's just oversensitive. I hate that I can't seem to deal with this. That I am just so fucked up. That I seem so much more fucked up than everyone else. Why can't I deal like others seem to be?
I have to call the MFM/High Risk OB for a consult, and that's not happening either.
The birth was literally a nightmare, every time I came to consciousness something else bad was happening. I haven't been able to call anyone to find out what actually happened, if Jacob actually did have a heartbeat when he was born. Who would I call? I really doubt anyone would know or even have any idea at this point. I think that might make it worse.
Nightmare. At first, it was almost comforting, the idea that I might have PTSD. Like it would explain so much, would validate my pain or behavior. Some sort of diagnosis like PTSD or major depression as a result of this would help me get some help. But it would also make me feel like a freak. Why am I the only one who cannot deal? Was my experience that much worse than others'? No, it wasn't.
Is this what six months feels like? Is this just a stumble? Am I special needs?
Does any of this make any sense?
I think I want an honest answer. If I change my mind, I'll turn off comments.