Monday, December 15, 2008

That Girl

I am getting the feeling that this all gets much, much worse before it gets better.

Over the weekend, I think I had convinced myself that going to work today, if only for a little bit, was a possibility and perhaps might even be good. I was thinking that maybe people were overreacting when they suggested I lay low until after the holidays. "Take some time off." Now, I am crying again at the thought of leaving the apartment.

This has to stop, right? It has to get better, right? These metamorphi moments when I start walking back to the kitchen completely composed, get a little teary at the thought of something and then find myself in a crumple of sobs before I reach the coffee pot. What is worse today is that it feels like there are no triggers, no things I can think or not think. I am simply sad. I am simply crying. It is an overriding pain, not one prompted by talking about or looking at the girls.

It feels all consuming.

What is worse is that I know M. woke up with this same sense. Yet, he is out in the world. Putting on a good show and actually functioning at work. I know. I can see the articles he is writing. But I know his heart isn't there.

What is worse is that he walked out this morning simply saying, "I just want my babies back." And I had nothing, nothing to say to comfort him.

If there is anything worse than this hurt, it is seeing someone you love so profoundly hurt as much and feeling absolutely helpless, completely unable to console.

I am the recipient of so many sympathies and so many of you have expressed them through me to M. as well. He will not cross the plane into my blog but I have tried to convey your words to him as well as I can. And that helps. In real life, I can't help thinking he is feeling a little left out in the cold. He is private by nature and I know that many of his friends are giving him the space they think he desires. But I think all he is feeling is a void. And I don't know what to do about it.

I don't want to be that girl who wakes up crying every morning. What husband would want to face that? I don't want to be that family member that everyone has to treat with kid gloves. I don't want to be that woman who gets upset at the sight of pregnant bellies or little babies at the store. I don't want to be that blogger that makes you cry every time you come over to check on me. I am so, so sorry. I would stay away but writing is the one thing that seems to soothe me. Calm me. Help me. You may be hearing a lot from me for a while.

I am walking out of the door right now - to the library and to the bank. A short walk on a warm-ish day. I am drying my tears and putting on my headphones and walking into the air.

Let's see how far I get.

16 comments:

noswimmers said...

I hate to be the one to tell you...but you're right. It will get worse before it gets better. At least that's how it was for me. Once the shock has worn off and things start to get back to normal, the waves of grief will hurt even more.

I tell you this not to be a downer, but because someone told me the same thing--and it was very helpful. When those feelings would surface, I knew that I wasn't crazy...that it was normal.

One step, one breath, one moment at a time. Concentrate on that for now.

Let me know if there's anything I can do.

HUGS

loribeth said...

It's never easy going back to work... but seriously, it is way too early, especially with the holidays looming large. Definitely take off any time that you're entitled to or that they're willing to give you.

But at the same time, I think it is a good idea to try to take a walk or run an errand somewhere every day, just to get out of the house & get in a little exercise. My mother was around for the first while after my loss & she made a point of dragging me off somewhere for a walk or for an ice cream or even just to the supermarket, & I kept it up after she left.

It does get better... eventually. But it does take time. Lots of time. Hang in there, hon. We're here to listen/read & send you cyber(((hugs))).

~Hollie said...

I hope that your ventures get easier out into the world. But don't rush anything. You are grieving and there is no time limit on it. You have to deal with it the way you do, and your dh has to deal with it the way he does. My heart breaks for you both. I know the hurt that comes from seeing your love in pain. The only assvice I can give you is that with time, you will figure out a way to soothe him. And it might just be in the little ways, little things that you weren't even trying to do for him that will ease his pain. Your post spoke volumes to me. Please continue to write, we are here to listen.

Isn't it pretty to think so said...

Thinking of you. Crying for you. Praying for you. I have no advice and nothing to make you feel better. I am just so sorry for what you and M are going through.

Smiling said...

Well you did not make me cry today. I even smiled a half smile when I saw your strength and conviction shine through in this post, because you'll need it as things get harder before they are any easier.

Good on ya for getting out, but don't be hard on yourself when you need to retreat home.

Write as much as you want. We're here for you.

Oh and as one who's husband does not read my blog, I have my settings such that any comments pop up in a specific gmail account. On a day that I was getting a lot of support, I let my husband read through those....

Anonymous said...

My dear friend,
I wish I could tell you I was praying for you and that God would make it all better. But i'm not. and he won't. But, hmm, if I were to send out a little prayer it might go something like this,
"Dear God. Why you gotta be such a dick all the time? Jesus Christ. (oops. I mean, What the fuck?) I mean, I totally understand why you would want I and J up there in old heaven - you want to boost the average IQ up there and actually get some lookers with minds of their own. I get it. Heaven is filled with fat, boring sheep. But couldn't you have left them here on earth? They would have had much more fun and frankly, earth could use some girls with brains and spunk. How about a switcheroo? You know that Duggar family you are so fond of with like, 18 kids? They wouldn't even miss one! And they have PLENTY to go around, and honestly, we don't need another long haired morman fruit cake. We're all stocked up on them down here, so thanks. Pull a fucking superman, ok? Reverse time spin the earth back and let I and J stay where they were meant to be. Take a Duggar. Take 2. They will fit in better with you and your crew up there. So go ahead, almight one, do your thang. I'll owe ya one for my good buddies, mmkay? Seems like you owe the world one for the last 8 years, so we'll call it even if you just do this one thing."
Don't you dare go back to work yet. I Promise you will regret it. The pain will only get easier to manage, never gone, never far from your mind. But smile too, when you think of those little darlings. Because they are little pieces of you and M and eternal ones at that. Take their energy and their immense strength and hold them close and know they would only want you both to go on and have wonderful lives, and little siblings for them to watch. Love your favorit work buddy, L.
ps.this will make you puke: http://www.duggarfamily.com/

Barbara said...

I lost my George in October and I'm not going back to work until January and I'm still not sure I'm ready.

I hope you don't mind me throwing my advice into the pot.

Take all the time you need and try not to fight what you're feeling, as awful as it is it needs to be released. Cry when you need to, laugh when you need to and just try to accept that it will take time.

Thinking of you, M, Jovita and Isobel with love.

xxx

Somewhat Ordinary said...

I admire you for walking into the fresh air. I'm thinking of you...

annacyclopedia said...

Wishing you moments of peace amidst the waves of grief that are likely to keep crashing over you for quite some time. I haven't been where you are, but my experience with grief is that it is a bit like being sucked out to sea - a lot of the time you feel like you're drowning, but there are moments when you can breathe and it's not quite as scary. I'm hoping you have many of those moments to bring you respite through this hardest of times.

You are still in my prayers.

m said...

@noswimmers. You are right. One step, one breathe. That is what I will try to do. Your words are by no means a downer. I am thankful for the reassurance.

@loribeth. good idea. it seems if I linger in here for too long I get absolutely panic-stricken at the thought of opening the door. Once I am out, I am ok, but the leaving is hard. Today's walk was good. And an IRL friend read my post and almost caught me on my route. We'll go for a walk together tomorrow. And that will be nice.

@ordinary @ pretty and @barbara. thank you.

@Hollie. thank you. no assvice there. just sound words.

@smiling. damn. that is a good idea. maybe I will rework some of my settings...

Ryan's Mommy said...

It's OK to be that girl right now. It's OK to be that girl for months to come. You and M have both experienced a parent's worst nightmare. I'm absolutely heartbroken for you both. I hope it helps to know that total strangers care and are praying for you.

Michelle said...

I have started to write a comment twice now and stopped. I don't want to intrude on your very private life or the sadness of your moments. I am so very sorry for your loss. I finally decided to comment just to say, "I am sorry" and be kind to yourself. Give yourself whatever time, space, tears you need.

Summer said...

I think you need to do what you have to do to get through the day (hour? minute?) without putting the extra pressure on yourself and not be "that girl." If there was ever a time for it to be ok for you to be "that girl" it is now.

And, I don't think it's your responsibility to try to fill the void in M. left by your sweet girls (nor his to fill your void). There is a void because they were and are precious to you. If they weren't, it wouldn't hurt so much.

Amy said...

Some days you may make it all the way to the bank or the library, some days to the coffee pot, and other days...well, we'll be here for all of them. I can't fathom the depths of your grief, but I know that for now, that's where you have to live. Let us know what we can do to help.

Lori said...

With respect to the grieving timeline, be as gentle with yourself as you would be with any of us. This is still a fresh wound. Healing takes place in a spiral and not a straight line (this is just a reminder of what you already know).

Don't worry about being That Girl someday. Just be you today.

Sending strength and love to your husband, too. He sounds like mine.

Kami said...

I'm sorry, it does get worse. As for going back to work, I went after two weeks as my husband did. I don't think it was too soon for us. It felt good to be distracted with something normal for a bit. But everyone is different and it wasn't the holidays and no one around me was pregnant and, frankly, I was still numb.

You can be to your husband what he is to you. Just say, "I know. I understand. I love you." I was that girl and I didn't support Brad as much as he supported me. A year later when I was feeling better (thanks to a wonderful grief counselor), he finally was able to let himself grieve.

I also think men are expected to 'suck it up' and that somehow it doesn't mean as much to them. That helps no one.

Sometimes this is one breath at a time.

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