Back to no words, only tears.
But that's misleading. I've been doing better. Sociable, the class I co-teach is going well, the animals are (mostly) getting along.
I have a list of things I wanted to talk about, write about, but for the life of me, I don't know where to start.
I was feeling so good, in fact, that I call my RE's office to ask them to call in a 'script for the folic acid supplement he had the pharmacy compound. I bought vitamins and took a couple. I asked the nurse about the yoga class they offer, and bought a new mat. My RE is doing accup.uncture, too, now, so maybe I'll try that as well. Craving vegetables, occasionally, food that is better for me. Talking more with C about trying for another child. Thinking about consults with doctors.
There is a confluence of events or conversations or activities that can explain this, but I don't know where to start.
I'm thinking about writing -- or editing -- a book. Maybe connected with a dissertation, maybe not. I hesitate to academize this too much.
But something I have learned, as I shared my story with my brother (mistake, but learned from -- we are better) and my friend S, and one of my profs. I didn't know why I felt compelled to share "the story" with her, what happened during those two weeks, but I did it anyway. Her response was sensitive and warm and thoughtful: just what I would have expected, had i expected anything.
I told my sister about it, and she asked me what I was hoping to get from sharing this story -- pity, understanding, conversation, something from others, a free pass... I don't know what I was thinking, honestly. I'm still processing it.
Something I have learned from this, though, is that I feel lighter, somehow. Sharing the events, the grief, my own process.
And I can't explain it, though part of it I instinctively knew, from writing this journal, sharing with others who get it because they've been through it. But why put it on others? Why should that help me feel lighter?
I can't explain it. Not yet.
But I'll take it.
Thanks for sticking around.