Over the weekend I didn’t read anything. Not one thing that could distract from what i was needing to do, feel pain. On Friday I wrote about having buried or suppressed letting it out for so long that I was beginning to not feel anything. And then I let it happen, opened up that wound and let myself get upset for a little bit. It didn’t help.
There was no television watching, I didn’t pick up a book for fear that something was going to set me off in a way I didn’t expect, I just avoided life for 72 hours. It wasn’t a good idea.
Those panicked feelings are very much touching the surface of my skin. I haven’t yet learned how to deal with my grief regarding my daughter in anything other than an avoidance technique. Saturday the 19th will mark the anniversary of when I learned years ago about the sex of my child. And it was the greatest Christmas gift I ever received. I might have been momentarily disheartened if it had been a boy and I would have loved him just the same.
Right now I know that day is not going to go well for me. In my heart it is anniversary/birthday/huge raise level of hope and happy that I hadn’t felt in a while.
The slightly wise sage of a 15 year old keeps telling me that I need to let it out. That she knows without asking that I’m not doing well at times, I become withdrawn in a manner that scares her. She would prefer me screaming and crying to silence. So much of her grandmother in her. Even bits of an aunt she never met.
It’s weird that I sometimes ask that the medical stuff hurry along so that I can reach that point where I can get some answers. What’s next? Maybe I can find some peace knowing that I’m not to blame?
I’m sure people know about National Writing Month. Spending November creating something new to share, or to keep. doesn’t matter. When I was done my little project, I was told to never hit that publish key. Wally Lamb thought it was too dark [that would be a She Comes Undone reference!] The person who offered to edit it told me that I would regret leaving that kind of hurt and sorrow out for someone to judge me. The information was too personal even if I had removed any names or places.
When I picked a title for this blog I was in the middle of a health crisis. Trying to gain some humor from it, so I made fun of my situation. I’m not finding it very funny anymore. My meltdown just feels like a breakdown and my spare tire is home in the garage doing me little good out here on the road.
The holidays don’t mean anything anymore and with every commercial I hear or see it feels like a knife twisting. I know I’m not alone in that feeling. I truly wish I were, it means others are feeling the same kind of pain and I would never want that.
While the world is standing in line for Star Wars I plan on being in a car driving to a marker to leave an obnoxious amount of flowers. Different kind of Princess in a different type of universe. Weather be damned, this is where I should be!