How to reconcile this new life with the one I wanted. I know lots of people have, in one way or another. Or they've reconciled that they will never reconcile.
But I'm stubborn. Dammit, and I'm so angry.
There are some things I still believe in, but I don't believe in much anymore. I guess it's the hope that's gone. What am I living for? I'm living with the hope that things will get better. I'm living so I can spend my life with my dear sweet C. (Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid.)
But what else? I know there is life beyond children. That I am not defined by this hole in my life. But it feels like it. Nothing feels right. Nothing feels really good. I have nothing to say. I've owed my dad a phone call for 4 days. What can I say to him?
Yes, I'm depressed, I know. Yes, I've just changed my meds. Yes, I'm grieving. But I don't know how to find the joy anymore. Nothing sustains.
Maybe that's just growing up. Knowing that everything changes, knowing that joy fades, evolves, shows up in different things.
I've only gotten to the fading part. Can't really trust much else. C. My friends in the computer. My dear friends IRL.
Everything changes.
This is stupid and pointless. Talking in circles. The right words are just out of reach. I have no idea what they are.
14 comments:
I don't know either.
But I do know that you are cared for in real life and in your computer.
I don't think it can ever be truly reconciled. But I do believe that one day you will feel happy again. It will always be a bittersweet happy, but one day...
Thinking of you.
there are no right words really. there is no sense to be made of it. it just is. and it just sucks.
it's hard to feel joy when you're being swallowed by the gig gaping void around you. sometimes it's just about treading water.
I meant to add, and that gets exhausting.
you don't have the words and all I can say is ((hugs))
There are no right words, only your words that are right for you. I echo the others, you are cared for and with time, you will find the fit in this life after loss. It hasn't been that long, go easy on yourself and give your mind, body, spirit and heart the time they need to heal.
I sometimes think we all fight the riptide too hard in trying ot get back to the beach, back to land, to safety. When sometimes the safest thing to do is just to let the riptide carry you, not fight it and then when it releases you, as riptides always do, you will be able to float back to shore, almost effortlessly.
Float for a bit my friend, just float. We're all here with you.
xxoo
Just so you know: I really haven't felt "joy" yet either. Not that unadulterated, from the gut, cheezy makes you feel like butterflies inside kind. Not yet. And I realize when I talk with other people that I still feel like "other" to a large extent -- sometimes even more than I did last year because now I *can* talk about it, and now they are profoundly beyond it.
I also leave you with this: one of the first things I read about grieving a child said it takes anywhere from 3-5 years (YEARS) to incorporate (or integrate, or whatever fancy word you want to use there) the loss into your life in a meaningful, comfortable fashion.
When I went to a support group at the hospital I spoke with parents who claimed the second year was actually worse (!) than the first because the numbness had worn off.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, we all do this on our own timetable. And your timetable is well within the bounds of "normal." I know it's hard, and I'm not asking you to accept anything (lord knows I haven't) but maybe if you could *be* with this place. Not fight it. Not think you're "behind" or "can't do it" -- just do it. Grieve. Allow yourself to feel like shit, right now. Understand that it's part of this abysmal journey. Blog how wretched you feel right now, without guilt or comparison.
We're all here with you. I hate the new me too. All of it. But we don't have a choice, do we.
"I know there is life beyond children."
I've also been thinking about this a lot, and what I really want to do is call up some of my childless-by-choice acquaintances and ask, so what is life like for you? Why did you choose this? From where do you draw your joy? Where do you see yourself in 10, 20 years? I may, yet. Although their answers probably won't help any.
But like you, it's all jumbled words in my mind and none of it makes sense, even to me sometimes.
Thanks for your comments over at my place. I do appreciate it. At least we're not walking alone.
You know I love you very much. And not in a creepy way (although it totally sounds like it).
I'm thinking of you, STE. And I'm praying that your burden will be lifted soon.
Yet again another post I feel helpless in trying to respond to.
I honestly believe it's a matter of trying to survive for as long as possible, until that moment when something switches in our head, and we have taken a step back towards 'normal'.
Hold strong, that time will come, I DO believe that.
*hugs* I'm right there with you. It's like I can sometimes watch a movie of my former life and be just as detatched
Reaching for you through the darkness and hoping that soon there will be a flicker of light. One step at a time.
Just wanted you to know I'm here, listening and caring.
Allison
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