Monday, November 14, 2005

Expectations and disappointments

I thought I would feel better by now. Maybe because so many other people expect me to feel better, or maybe just because I have unrealistically high expectations of myself. Maybe because I have no clue what I'm doing and I'm wandering around like a newly blind person left with nothing more than darkness, other senses that haven't yet learned to compensate, and a fading memory of the things I used to see (I've also apparently become used to using really bad metaphors and similes...ick).

The fact is that I'm not back to normal and I still haven't made any progress on figuring out what my new normal is. I have few moments where I'm not high-strung, nervous, or angry. Despite my best intentions I can't make it work...this new life of mine. It's not that I don't WANT to be happy. It's that there is nothing that really makes me feel happy. Everything pales in comparison to the happiness and the sadness I've felt this year. I guess that's my problem. I want THAT happiness back. I want something that will erase THAT sadness. But there isn't anything that will do that, is there?

You know, sometimes I sit at my keyboard and write and the words just flow out my fingertips onto the screen through a shower of tears. Sometimes I can barely type for the force of the sobs that escape my body as I get the words down. And then sometimes I feel like the words totally escape me and I wonder where the tears are hiding. Surely they are around the next corner...the next turn of a phrase. I almost don't want to write because I don't want them to fall AGAIN. I'm so tired of crying.

I have work to do. So I will ignore this gnawing feeling that something isn't right today...something even more wrong than usual...and get to it. I can't put my finger on it. I can't put it in words. It's this feeling I've been having since I saw the almost dead cat open its eyes and twitch its tail while laying in the middle of the road waiting to die on Friday...the same feeling I got yesterday while watching the flock of vultures circling our front pasture...a sense that there is some disaster on the way...some impending doom. There is some exhausted part of me that says, "Bring it on...what more could you do to me?" But then I think how the universe doesn't play fair and likes to take on a challenge like that...how it bats us all around like we're little cat toys...giving and taking life on a whim. No, I don't want to tempt fate like that.

I could talk about God here...as Steve and I had a pretty interesting conversation about God on our way to engage in some retail therapy on Saturday. But instead I'd rather talk about my Pumpkin Spice candle and my Eddie Bauer sweater. I've never owned anything Eddie Bauer in my life. I feel like I've turned some sort of corner.

I will never again in my life be able to say that things are just the way they should be. I will never answer that question, "What would you change?" with the trite, "Nothing, everything is the way I would want it if I could do it all again." I don't want this new life. I would even trade my Pumpkin Spice candle and my very first Eddie Bauer sweater if I could change just one thing and have my life back the way it should be.

4 comments:

kate said...

Even when you find your 'new normal' you will not want this life, of course. It is grossly unfair and horrid. Where is my exit pass, i want to get OFF this ride! There is no exit pass, unfortunately...but the ride does get less bumpy with time. And the sadness becomes more underneath -- more incorporated into your soul, rather than sitting on your sleeve.

I think you are doing a lot 'better' than i was at six months.

Dana said...

I am so sorry Kate. : ( I read your blog every day. Often, I don't post a comment because I don't know what to say. Anything that I think to post sounds utterly ridiculous. Things like, "hang in there" and "everything is going to be okay" just sound plain stupid.

I didn't lose a child. I don't know how that feels. I remember when the dr. told us Philip most likely had trisomy 13. I remember the AGONY I felt at thinking we were going to lose our little boy. But, we didn't. I can only imagine your pain is a million times worse. : ( What can I say to that? : *(

I am SO sorry you had to go through this. I wish so much that this never happened to you. I miss you. : ( I miss the sarcastic, witty Kate, I met over 3 years ago. :( You see, this is what I'm talking about, you are greiving the loss of your sweet Alex and I'm talking about what *I* miss. : (

In any case, I just wanted to let you know, even though I may not always post, I am always thinking of you. You and your family are always in my prayers. I know you have issues with God right now, but I truly believe that baby Alex is in heaven, looking down and smiling at his wonderful mommy. I believe that God is with you and he is going to help you through this horrible time.

I have never responded to your posts about God/religion because, well, I don't know why. I wanted to. I guess I don't because I don't want to say the wrong thing and upset you... I will say this one thing, while I don't understand why God allows these terrible things to happen to us, I believe that there must be *some* reason. Something that we just can't understand. I believe with all my heart that God loves us and it hurts him to see us suffering. I believe that he is with you Kate. He is helping you to go on when you don't know how you possibly can. He loves you.

I am sorry if I am out of line or if I upset you. And if I did either, then you will understand why I don't post more. : \

You are a very dear friend to me. I think the world of you. I hope you know that.

I love you sis!!

R said...

I firmly believe that beauty will come out of Alex's death. It already has. I just want to encourage you in this.

Your son DIED, Catherine. It's not something you get over in 6 months, or 6 years, or EVER. And I think that's what you said in this post. You said it so much more eloquently than I.

The one thing that I would disagree with is what you wrote about fate. I believe that God is in control of it all - and He allows the bad stuff to happen because sin has entered the world, separating us from His love. And He loves you and wants to take your hand. And He has Alex in His arms. It doesn't make it ANY easier that God has Him, and you don't, I know that. That sucks. It blows.

If you could have your baby back you would live down by the river in a trailer, with just your family. I know that. Because that's truly the kind of person you are.

You have been through tough shit the past 6 months. And I am not going to say you are an amazing person, because you would probably want to slap me. No one CHOOSES to go through this; it happens to them...and if you could have the choice to NOT go through this and not be told you were amazing and strong and all those other things that other people tell you, and have Alex Gerard safely tucked in his little bed, I bet you'd jump at the chance.

I don't even know if that made sense. I hope it does.

Your husband truly lucked out when he married you. And your two boys TRULY lucked out to have you for a mother. That picture of you pregnant with Alex, with the caption under it "We were so happy..." - I know Alex felt that happiness. Babies in the womb feel those things. He knew how much you loved him. He knew you would do anything for him, to protect him.

OK I'm crying now and I'm just rambling.

Sorry.

R

R said...

dude, my last comment absolutely blew. you can delete it if you want. I sound totally condescending and like I know what the hell I'm talking about, and I don't.

I shouldn't have commented at all.