Sunday, November 15, 2009

Coming to you from the bottom of a well... or so it seems

This past week I felt myself turning into a total Bitter Betty--a person that I've never been before. Case in point: when I'm asked how I am in casual conversation with acquaintances I'm completely unable to offer the usual, "I'm fine/good. How are you?"

Instead I'm all, "Meh." or "I'm okay..." This is usually met with a blank stare while I try to muster up a smile or some type of half-hearted reason like, "Oh, we've just been really busy lately" instead of just blurting out, "My baby died," which is pretty much running on a loop when I run into people that I haven't seen in awhile.

Even when I'm posting on my beloved message boards, I feel like I'm this sad panda wandering around, bringing everyone else down by talking about how sad she is. And I wish I had more than that to talk about right now, but I really don't. This is my life.

Fuuuuucccckkkk... How is it possible that I'm feeling even worse right now than I was a month ago? Why does it feel like I'm living my life at the bottom of a well? I keep staying active, hanging out with friends, etc. but what I really want to do is just sit by myself and listen to some music (currently strung out on the Dixie Chicks and playing "It's so hard" over and over. I know... I'm a walking cliche.)

Today I googled around and was reading about the stages of grief, since I've been feeling so bitter lately--methinks it's my way of processing anger since I'm not a very angry person to begin with. So I've been trying to recognize my triggers, talk them out, and release them. So far it's working.

But as I was reading, this little tidbit came up:
Stage 4. "DEPRESSION", REFLECTION, LONELINESS-

Just when your friends may think you should be getting on with your life, a long period of sad reflection will likely overtake you. This is a normal stage of grief, so do not be "talked out of it" by well-meaning outsiders. Encouragement from others is not helpful to you during this stage of grieving.

During this time, you finally realize the true magnitude of your loss, and it depresses you. You may isolate yourself on purpose, reflect on things you did with your lost one, and focus on memories of the past. You may sense feelings of emptiness or despair.


OH HEY! I know that girl! That's me and my deep dark well, isn't it?

So I'm glad to see that this is normal and that my knee-jerk reaction to be by myself is a not seen as a unhealthy choice. It made me feel justified in turning down dinner at my mom's tonight because honestly I just wanted to work in my yard, just me and my iPod.

The good news is that the next steps are an upward swing and acceptance.

So maybe I'll see ya 'round the bend. In the meantime, no throwing pennies down the well... I don't want to be pelted with loose change while I'm down here.

xoxo

5 comments:

  1. I'm sending warm blankets and my love down that well...take all the time you need :)

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  2. It's totally normal. It's not been as bad for me this time as it was when I lost Chickadee and followed that up immediately with an abnormal pregnancy. I couldn't stop the well of bitterness then. I don't know quite why it's different this time, when it's so much bigger and hurts so much more, but it is. I know part of it is just a decision to not Go There. Wherever There is that day. Sometimes I still do, but mostly when I'm alone. I expect therapy will work on that too.

    I don't think grief is totally linear, I think you go through phases and sometimes circle back around to somewhere you've been before. And that's normal too.

    The whole lot of it sucks. I know that while I'm doing ok now, I may not be tomorrow - and that is ok too. I found I just couldn't be on a few of my boards anymore . . . so I'm not. I miss it, but I don't miss the guilt I was feeling about being the horror story or the cautionary tale or the person bringing people down. That was what I needed then.

    I think in the end, that's what it boils down too - you do what you need to do to get yourself through. Chin up, mama. I'm sitting here with you.

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  3. I'll keep my pennies in my pocket, but I'm still thinking about you.
    -FloridaKat

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