The edge is not a fun place to be. I'm looking out over the edge of the cliff and it's taking all the energy I have not to jump...to freefall into a self-indulgent depression that will consume me entirely. Last night I wished I had died instead of Alex. If God had to choose, he should have chosen me...not him. But then I thought about Sam and how he would have missed me so much more than he misses Alex...how much more unfair it would have been to him than it already is. How could I do that? Sophie's Choice is going in my mind...choosing between my boys. I actually weighed the pros and cons of which scenario would be better. And while Sam might have been sadder, they would both be alive.
All this bargaining as though I had a damn thing to say about it. God chose. And He didn't ask me my opinion.
So what does that leave me? Living a life I need to make the most of. But what exactly is that? For many years I was so sure I didn't want kids. Then for many years I was so sure I did want them. Now...who the hell knows what I want. And it seems that we're dealing with some unsaid things in our house that make me even more unsure. I read something a while back on Laura and Justin's Blog that stuck with me and has been sitting like a little seed in my brain. "it seemed a charmed start to a child's life to be conceived in a haze of parental love and magic." I don't know that I have it in me to create my part of parental love and magic. I don't know that I have the energy to do it all again. I don't know that I have the belief in the magic anymore to go down that path again and lay my heart on the line (not to mention my sanity). I feel so old and tired.
My living child is currently making my ears bleed with his whining. Is there somewhere I can curl up and hide?