Does it get any easier, or do you just get better at hiding it?
My friend, M, asked me these very simple questions in an email the other day and I have no idea how to answer her. In fact, I have no idea what to write here either.
Giving away the baby stuff was the best thing. I KNOW that. But it has set off a downward spiral like I haven't felt in a long time. I've been crying (that cry that you would not recognize unless you have cried it yourself).
Another friend wrote, "It's just not being in the place where the pain is omnipresent." And that was true for a day. But now...now it is all I think about and all I feel.
I have started making sick jokes at the office to lighten the mood...and there is at least one person who seems more comfortable with that way of addressing my sadness. For example, yesterday at lunch while discussing husbands and their strange/annoying habits, one lady said, "I think women just like to compare and see who has it worse." I raised my hand, waved, and said, "I think I've got that category sewn up." There were a couple stone faces, a couple quiet nervous laughs, and one real outward laugh. That one...the outward laugh...has bothered me since.
Because it's not really funny AT ALL.
Yesterday after work I went home, did some chores, and sat in the darkness of my barn while I waited for the farrier. I just sat there in the darkness, listening to the girls munch on hay and silently willing the dogs to stop barking so I could feel the pain without distraction. I think that is one of the hard parts of life moving on and dragging me with it. The world rushes by, filled with so much, in such a hurry to get to a better place. Don't be sad. Be happy. Feel better. Get over it. I know I'm supposed to be "getting better." I know I should learn to keep up with the pace.
But there are times when I just want to scream, "Wait ONE MINUTE world! I've got TWO DEAD BABIES! Just SLOW DOWN for ONE MINUTE!" The horror of it all just stops me dead in my tracks and I lose my breath and become dizzy with all the activity around me.
I know I can't get the rest of the world to slow down. So there is an odd sort of comfort in removing myself from the process of "healing" for just a few minutes and just letting the pain wash over me...deliberately slowing myself down so it all catches up to me and I can just FEEL it all without having to apologize or without having to be embarassed.
In those moments, I have to wonder how I am doing now, really. Am I just hiding what I feel?
I know I feel an enormous amount of guilt that I can't just let "it" go. That I can't "move on." What is wrong with me that I don't find true comfort in those places everyone thinks I should? I have failed in so many ways. I have disappointed so many people. I should be able to take their words and just feel better. I should have faith in God. I should take comfort in what I have. I should...I should...I should... And yet I just don't.
And it feels like nobody cares. It feels like people sit in judgment and think how I would "feel better" if I would just listen to them...if I would think like they think or feel like they feel. And once they are done making decisions about how my life "should" be, they stop thinking of me altogether unless it is in a laugh at my expense. Nobody will ever really see me...The me that cries (that cry) in the darkness of the cold barn.
So yeah...I guess I'm just better at hiding it. And it makes me feel so very alone.