ocean
Stepping off the HT train
by
, July 26th, 2014 at 03:42 PM (2791 Views)
It honestly feels like stepping off a train. Waving goodbye to the people who are continuing on, some of whom you got into deep conversation with along the way. Their conversations resume, their heads bend together again, while you turn and wheel your suitcase away from the platform and through the station.
Now that suitcase has some pretty important cargo, and I know someday I'll be back, and some of those very same voices will smile and hug me back onto the train. But for now, I still have to go, the pain is too raw, and I can't stay on the platform forever.
I don't feel strong today. I feel sad and really down. Being pulled into the whirlwind of pregnancy would've had its obvious excitement, on multiple levels. And it would've directed other decisions in our lives. I am exhausted by the decisions I've made and unmade in the past year and it would've been nice to have one wonderful, blissful thing around which other things were determined.
Whereas now it's just...'after'. And today is just a 'normal' day.
I'm really doing well to avoid triggers, which is helping. Even when I get sad, I go nowhere near facebook. I'm keeping my eyes on my own kids. Somehow I've had to be part of 3 different kid-gender-related conversations in the past few days, but they didn't pierce my heart, they just kind of dented the skin and moved on.
I am balancing two different feelings at the exact same time. The obvious sadness of loss, feelings of 'why wasn't it me', and of regret. It would've been pretty nice to not be in the 30-40%? day 5 tested failure camp. But also an underlying feeling that somehow this path was supposed to happen. I do know my heart wants to protect itself by believing this - and that's ok with me. I feel how I feel.
Part of the pain is that I am reminded, every time I come on this site, how much of my married life I've lost to GDe.
“The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.” - Henry David Thoreau
And by that measure, GDe has cost me very, very dearly. Time I could've spent building memories to treasure. Time for my kids. Time for writing, or reading, or just being content. Time to produce anything of any value at all.
When I get like this it means I need to spend more time and effort on my CB therapy. It's really been helping but it can help me more.
I can not let this sadness further ruin this day, this week. For me, and my family, I really need to try to bounce back a little more each day. My beautiful, beautiful baby just woke up, came out, and gave me the biggest grin. Take deep breaths. Love. Smile. Play. Count my blessings over and over. Tomorrow should be better. It almost always is.