I really hope that someday, I’ll be able to write about the good…but for now you’re just getting the bad & the ugly….
Over the weekend I was thinking to myself about all the people who say it gets easier with time, that I won’t always feel as bad as I do now. I was cynical and wary…..nothing felt to be changing or getting better, I couldn’t see any way out. “Maybe they just say that ‘cos it’d be cruel to tell someone this is their lot”, I thought to myself. And this was all reinforced, when Saturday afternoon I was picking up some bits from the supermarket and a pregnant lady walked past me…I don’t know her, we didn’t interact, didn’t even make eye contact. But next thing I found myself struggling to catch my breath, and not far off being a soggy mess on the floor of one of the aisles (hopefully the chocolate aisle not the nappy aisle!). I managed to hold it together til I got home, the single tear that escaped when I made it to the car and the carby snack I grabbed on the way through checkout the only sign of my battle.
Then yesterday on my way to class, I thought maybe just maybe this burden of grief is ever so slightly lighter, I’d managed to concentrate just a little better and get some study done. It’s only just over 2mths since that day, so maybe for me that’s the length of time I need for full grieving, maybe now things are going to improve a little, I’ll take even the tiniest lift as I know it’ll help me get through another week. Maybe everyone is right, maybe my weekend meltdown was just PMS, those hormone gremlins taking over my head yet again.
Not long after I got home last night, I checked my emails…..I read the first line of an email from a family member…”We’re expecting #3″…..I couldn’t read the rest, I handed the tablet to my husband as I crumpled, crying uncontrollably, bent over as if in physical pain. He pulled me up, held me tight, stopped me from falling as by now my legs were shaking and I was crying so hard my teeth were chattering. A while later when I’d calmed down, he tucked me up in the couch with a heat pack (by now PMS had turned into cramps, such fun, good timing!). I was a soggy mess for most of the evening, & gave into self-medicating with chocolate (so hard to break the emotion eating cycle when you’re so low and haven’t developed any other coping mechanisms yet). Poor man, I don’t think he’s ever seen me like that before, I don’t think I’ve ever seen me like that before.
And just like that, the vague hope that maybe things will get easier is dashed, I’m back to wanting to hide completely from the world, struggling to concentrate or make simple decisions. The tiny thread that was holding my heart together has broken yet again, and if I’m honest it wasn’t even a bittersweet reaction I was having, there was no sweet in it at all. Logically I know I’m happy/pleased for them, by right now my head and heart isn’t able to feel anything good for them (though I don’t feel anything bad about them either….I can only feel for us at the moment)
That’s the thing with this place of grieving….you never know what’s going to catch you out.