Alienating Myself
Last August I went through a really rough time. I lost a baby. A baby I had prayed desperately for and waited a long time to conceive. I received an outpouring of support and love from many of my friends and family. I tried to recover the best way I knew how and really felt like I was carrying on fairly normally for having been through something so difficult.
Then last October I went through it all again. As I struggled to deal with the pain I began to retreat further and further into myself. Things were foggy for me most of the time and it took a lot of effort to put on the show I felt like I needed to put on. I wasn’t in the depths of depression, but I was walking around with a very heavy weight and trying to act like it wasn’t there. It became easier to just stay home than to carry that weight around. I skipped out on events and get-togethers, making excuses for why I couldn’t be there or why I needed to leave early. I quit reaching out to make plans with friends. It was just so much work for me.
Then last month, it happened again. For the third time in six months, I sent a baby to heaven. This felt like a final, crushing blow. It knocked me to the ground and sucked the breath out of me. Forget a heavy weight to carry around, I was being crushed under it and could barely even move. I retreated further. I stayed home more. I withdrew and I know I wasn’t fun to be around. I probably made everyone around me feel uncomfortable. And even when I was in a crowd, I felt alone. It was hard and it was also embarrassing. I’m the kind of person who likes to be in control of myself and my surroundings. I was so afraid of losing control of my emotions that I tried to just smother them. I guess I kind of turned into a zombie.
I think this week I have kind of woken up in a way. I have seen what I am, how I am acting, and I’m ashamed. I know that everyone deals with grief in different ways, but who am I to shut others out at the time I need them most? I don’t know how to lift this burden. I can’t. But I’m spending a lot of time asking God to lift it for me. To carry it for me. I don’t want to stay this way. I want to reach out and make those connections again!
I guess what I’m saying is, I’m sorry. To my friends and family who have tried to be there for me, I’m sorry. To those who have simply been waiting patiently for me to be ready, I’m sorry. I feel a little more fragile now than I once did, but I don’t want to sit on the shelf because I’m afraid I’ll break. I want to get out and live again and I know that if part of me does crack or break, if I do start to cry, if I am having a hard day, that you, my friends, will be okay with that. In fact, I know you’ll help me through it.
So get ready, I’m going to try to get back into this thing called life. Feel free to tug on me a little if you can see that I need it. Don’t be surprised if you catch me wiping away a tear now and then. But then again, maybe I won’t be doing that as often if I can just get outside of myself and put my focus back where it belongs - on you guys!
Then last October I went through it all again. As I struggled to deal with the pain I began to retreat further and further into myself. Things were foggy for me most of the time and it took a lot of effort to put on the show I felt like I needed to put on. I wasn’t in the depths of depression, but I was walking around with a very heavy weight and trying to act like it wasn’t there. It became easier to just stay home than to carry that weight around. I skipped out on events and get-togethers, making excuses for why I couldn’t be there or why I needed to leave early. I quit reaching out to make plans with friends. It was just so much work for me.
Then last month, it happened again. For the third time in six months, I sent a baby to heaven. This felt like a final, crushing blow. It knocked me to the ground and sucked the breath out of me. Forget a heavy weight to carry around, I was being crushed under it and could barely even move. I retreated further. I stayed home more. I withdrew and I know I wasn’t fun to be around. I probably made everyone around me feel uncomfortable. And even when I was in a crowd, I felt alone. It was hard and it was also embarrassing. I’m the kind of person who likes to be in control of myself and my surroundings. I was so afraid of losing control of my emotions that I tried to just smother them. I guess I kind of turned into a zombie.
I think this week I have kind of woken up in a way. I have seen what I am, how I am acting, and I’m ashamed. I know that everyone deals with grief in different ways, but who am I to shut others out at the time I need them most? I don’t know how to lift this burden. I can’t. But I’m spending a lot of time asking God to lift it for me. To carry it for me. I don’t want to stay this way. I want to reach out and make those connections again!
I guess what I’m saying is, I’m sorry. To my friends and family who have tried to be there for me, I’m sorry. To those who have simply been waiting patiently for me to be ready, I’m sorry. I feel a little more fragile now than I once did, but I don’t want to sit on the shelf because I’m afraid I’ll break. I want to get out and live again and I know that if part of me does crack or break, if I do start to cry, if I am having a hard day, that you, my friends, will be okay with that. In fact, I know you’ll help me through it.
So get ready, I’m going to try to get back into this thing called life. Feel free to tug on me a little if you can see that I need it. Don’t be surprised if you catch me wiping away a tear now and then. But then again, maybe I won’t be doing that as often if I can just get outside of myself and put my focus back where it belongs - on you guys!
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