This place has become awkward for me and I've been trying to pinpoint why. Yes, there is the standard, "If Alex had lived, Myles wouldn't be here," issue to deal with. But I expected that. I didn't expect these other complicated thoughts to create such a block that seem to make it impossible to write at all. I've given it a lot of thought and I have come up with three reasons I'm having difficulty here in this space...
1. I am suffering from some strange sort of survivor's guilt. It feels foreign to be happy and it feels even more foreign to express that I'm happy. But next to the happiness is the fear...sitting quietly in the wings waiting to take center stage. I keep waiting...for those familiar grief feelings to drop on me like a lead balloon...squashing me into oblivion.
I'm also ever-aware of what it's like to NOT be happy and how my happiness might unintentionally cause someone reading this blog additional pain. I haven't been entirely truthful here. I DO write for me, but I also DO censor myself quite a bit to save myself any additional drama that might be created by my being completely honest. Now is no different. I COULD wax poetic about life now...about the healing that Myles has brought to my life...but it seems redundant and unnecessarily hurtful to some of my dearest blogosphere friends.
2. It seems somehow wrong to use this place to talk about Myles...as if I'm treading on holy ground and/or disrespecting the memories of Alex and Travis by using this place to talk about the little brother they never got to meet. This also ties in to #3.
3. "I hate to say it, but if Alex had lived, I'm not sure how we would have managed (financially)." This simple truth makes me feel sick. I do not want to ever find a silver lining. I do not ever want to feel even the tiniest bit of relief that my child died. But I do and I am not emotionally equipped to process this, let alone the feeling of happiness I feel when I look at Myles.
It's like a ball of yarn that gets tangled. I know it's all one piece and all I have to do is unravel it in order to be able to use it to create something beautiful...but I just can't unwork the knots.
So I'm not sure where this leaves me as far as this blog goes. I'm not sure if the emotional baggage in this place will allow me room to say what I want to say. But I am also not sure I want to let a little bit of complicated emotional untangling to run me off of a place I've felt so at home for so long. This place was home before the bad stuff and I'd like it to remain home now that I'm through the bad stuff (knock on wood). But I worry that it's like my colleague and I were talking about earlier...once you wear that cute little black dress to a funeral, it ceases being the little black dress and becomes your funeral dress...there is no going back.
So if I'm quiet for a while, just know that I'm working it out in my head. I will let you, dear internets, know where I land.