Wednesday, August 04, 2010

I cried

It was over on Sunday, April 11th. Nearly two weeks was a Friday...I cried. No, I sobbed. I picked an argument with my husband, he left the room, and I laid down on the bed and my body shook with the sobbing. And I haven't cried since.

Until today.

I don't know why today. But today is apparently the day.

A friend came for a visit a couple weeks ago and suggested maybe I am depressed because I'm like that commercial ("Do you find you have to wind yourself up just to get out of bed?"). And I said no as I mentally ticked it off...May...June...July...August. It's been four months. I was feeling better by four months with Alex.


Here come the tears.


It seems a million years ago I held sweet baby Alex. I say his name and it seems so it happened to someone else and was just some horrible story I heard once. But my arms still ache to hold him. I can't deny it. I miss my baby boy.

But I can't talk about it either. I'm supposed to have had my cry and moved on by now. If someone were to walk into my office right this moment, what would I tell them is wrong? Why am I crying?

I don't even know anymore.

Am I depressed? Maybe. Or maybe today is just a day for crying.


Shanna said...

Hugs my dear friend.

Anonymous said...

Catherine, I'm sorry for your losses. All of them. And the sadness.

marcia said...

Not a pro, here, but seems to me that with depression comes numbness. You feel, and express those feelings, deeply. I think today is simply a day for crying, and I am thankful that you have the ability to cry when it is time to cry. Those are tears of memory and love, and they bring healing and release. You don't need to explain them to anyone, Catherine!
Hugs to you, today!

Diana said...

Catherine, I thought of you today. I attended the wake of a co-workers 18 year old son. And as I looked at him standing there, receiving the people, I thought of you. You don't know me from a hole in the wall, but I have been an avid reader of yours for the longest time.
Today I felt the need to tell you that I admire you. Fuck this universe and it's cruelty.
No person deserves this, any of this.
Hugs to you.

Michele said...


Nathan and Stephanie McMullon said...

You cry because you're sad. You cry because you're angry. You cry because you hurt. You cry because you fucking want to or need to or can't help but to.

There is no timeline on grief or sadness and to those who think there ought to be....well...I say - fuck 'em.

Pipsylou said...

I think you are sad. Sadness does not necessarily equal depression.

ms. G said...

Catherine, you are not alone. With this last loss, I had a similiar experience. I didn't cry. Until I did. I actually felt really good the first 2 months, and thought it was because I was "good" at the grief stuff. Ha. Ha. Now, I often wonder if I am depressed too. Like, I mean, DEPRESSED for real, not just sad over my loss. 7 months after my loss, I felt like I had not budged an inch in the grief. I felt stuck in the day I found out. Now, I'm about 10 months, is okay. I have really bad days and then days where i feel normal. I keep asking if I need to get help. This time does not feel at all like the other time. It is hard to know the right thing for yourself.

This comment was long enough, but I just wanted to let you know you are not alone. I hope today you feel better.

kate said...

What Marcia said. (((((hugs)))))

msfitzita said...

I'm not an expert on depression either, but I have to think that what you're experiencing is probably very normal. Yeah, it's been four months, but it's ONLY been four months - and it was one more trauma on top of trauma on top of trauma.

I think it makes sense that you would feel things and cope with things differently this time, and that this pain would dredge up old pain. It also kind of makes sense that it would all surface when your head knew you were ready to deal with it and strong enough to finally cry.

I can't fathom that anyone thinks you should have moved on by now or don't still have the right to grieve.

But if you find the name of someone who does, pass it along. I have a few choice words and a flaming bag of cat poo for them...