So, I had therapy today, for the first time in almost a month. It was fine. A bit of a catch-up, but we talked about the cycle and about the holidays, and how I've been stuck, unable to write, get my work done. Feeling down, lost with work, with reproduction. I'll spare you the details, but when I left I felt okay, but like we had only really started talking about things. So, you know, maybe the beginning of productive.
And then I got on the highway and started cursing and giving everyone the finger. (Okay, honestly, the first car I got behind was taking up the whole road at 35 on a 50 mph stretch. And no one around here seems to be able to figure out which lane is the fast or passing lane, and which is the slow lane. Really, people!)
Anyway, I noticed that everything was pissing me off. Nothing decent on the radio, and I went through a few cds before finding one I could tolerate. It was an 1ndigo G1rls concert album. Ever since college, I've enjoyed much of the IGs music, but I have a history of putting them on when I was traveling and/or feeling melancholy and I would often end up crying as I sang along.
Yes, of course, I ended up crying today. Hard. Really hard. And it had nothing to do with the song.
I was flooded with feelings of grief and loss and missing the boys. Regret, too. Flashbacks from that period of time. The sky was white today, and it was raw and cold, as it was 2 years ago. Then, it seemed every single day of January was raw and cold and stark. Oh, I felt it today.
And I realized, when I got home, that I hadn't really let loose and had a good cry in the last month. The month of anniversaries of loss and pain and, well, the holidays. I got teary, I got anxious. I never gave into it though.
I've been holding everything in. I've been expending so much energy not being sad, not giving in to the grief, not really feeling anything, that I had nothing left for anything else. If I let my brain go and write, or focus on reading, I might go to some bad place.
Which, ironically, I did anyway. I have been immobile for almost a month. No school work, little housework, walking the dog (in the bitter cold, btw) -- it was all too much. And I've felt unsettled, but couldn't identify the source. When I wrote yesterday, I knew I wasn't getting anywhere. It was a weak, going nowhere post. Stuck? Absolutely.
A few days ago, this post from m at The Maybe Baby (Babies) popped up on my reader. Among other things, she writes about avoiding the elephant in the corner. Pretending there is nothing there because it's painful to think about, to feel. I could relate to many things in the post, but especially this. It's so hard to go back to that place. I felt something like it last November. I was feeling something over the last few weeks, but couldn't put my finger on it. Or wouldn't. It wasn't the same thing as last November, not the same thing as last year, or even two year ago. More angry. Definitely way more angry. Angry and sad. Disappointed. Scared. Frustrated.
Too hard to go there. And as I sat in my living room talking to C about this, I realized that I was exhausted. I felt like I'd been holding my breath for a really long time and had just let it out. I had been holding on to a lot. In my mind, in my body. That migraine from last week? My RE also does acupuncture and acupressure, and treated my back on Friday. He found a trigger point in my neck. I was holding everything in my shoulders, too. Even after the needles, when I was much looser, everything hurt. Everything was incredibly tight, my muscles were sore the following day, and still needed more treatment. I've had recurring headaches. My stomach has been a mess. I haven't been able to let go of the computer or the tv or the b.berry so I could just lay down and sleep. (This is where I started to cry in my pharm's office. Hmmm.) My sinuses have been aching. I've been pulling away from fun, from phone calls, from socializing with friends on fb, even. At least one of my friends noticed and said she was worried about me. That annoyed me. Why?
Because I couldn't talk about it. I didn't even know what I was resisting. I even avoided phone calls from my sister. Haven't done that in a long time.
C has been really frustrated with me. I've been hunkered down in the bedroom, hidden away, not getting anything done. Not participating, not really cooperating. Of course, he didn't say anything until today. I could feel him pulling away, too, and it pissed me off. So I pulled away more. That's healthy.
More loneliness. I have been compartmentalizing without even realizing it. Feeling something, resisting or ignoring it. So this is being strong? I wonder if I had just had a meltdown or two around the holidays if we would have been spared this.
It's so weird to write about all this. Not my best articulation of an idea. I am not done. I am not healed. But I have broken through something, I think. Perhaps it has begun.
The mind is an amazing, great and terrible thing. And my body carried what I have not been able to. My body has been holding on to all that stuff because I have not been able to recognize it.
The lines are just about gone. FMU showed almost nothing. Today is 13dpo. I have almost no hope for this cycle. Beta is Friday, which, btw, is 2 years since the d&c to resolve the infection. I expect nothing, and will likely not even poas again until then.
Thanks for your encouragement and your support. I'm really glad you're here.