I'm pasting in what I wrote in my live journal today. I started this blog soon after I stopped talking about deadbabies there since my friends who know me in person would get upset that I was sad. They want to see me happy and I love them so I filter out the really sad stuff so they don't worry about me. I feel very exposed having said so much to them so I might take it down from there. I don't really know why I put it up there in the first place.
I was going to turn some of the ideas into a nicer post for here but for now I'll just include it as is and add any thoughts later.
"How do you measure a year?"
With all of the crazy musical theater-ish videos I've put up lately I won't include that RENT song here (did you all know that I'm a huge RENT fan? The obsession was really bad a few years ago (10! shoot time flies), now all I want to listen to is Wicked).
Anywho - "How do you measure a year?"
This last year has been measured in bottles of wine, cigarettes, tubes of water proof mascara, stupid thoughtless comments, hurtful purposeful comments, relationships lost/stalled, and amazing support found. I wish I could say I had learned some life lesson that improved my personality / impact on the world / level of care in relationships - positive things that balanced out that sickening feeling and intense longing for my child, but I haven't. Not this year anyway.
Saturday was the calmest, lowest day. I gave up wishing people would offer some support regardless of if they could comprehend this sort of loss, or disapproved of such prolonged mourning; support and care just because someone says they love you isn't as natural as I thought. I didn't mention the anniversary while talking to my dad on the phone since I didn't want to hear any comments from him about his surprise that I'm still upset about this. Seriously people, you hold your dead son and then you may tell me an appropriate time frame for being "upset". My mother hasn't contacted me in months since I told her that some things she said hurt my feelings.
In the past year, for the first time in my life, I spoke my mind, telling people the things I needed to be protected from. It's hard to say if those communications turned out well or not. I never imagined my mother would stop talking to me, preferring to stick to her temper tantrum than show some extra love during the worst time of my life. I know I need to be the one to contact her but honestly she is so difficult that I've been putting it off until I'm actually ready to deal with her shit again. So we probably will talk again but I think I'll always remember how she bailed out when things got tough. Not like I blame people though. I have been miserable to be around - depressed and angry. Again, spend a moment with my memories before being surprised that I'm angry.
On Saturday I thought "this is the feeling that makes people want to joint cults". The kind of cults that provide a close knit family like structure. Living in a compound, severing ties with non-believers, crazy suicide pacts.
So spiritual thought for today... cheerfulness practice.
"Cheerfulness practice is not letting pleasantness or kindness or anything that feels good in your life go by, but actually noting it."
"Don't underestimate the things in your life that bring you happiness."
- Pema Chodron
This is not faking it til you make it, I've come a long way since then - this is living with this lingering sense of loss and emptiness but still enjoying things.
Lovely things today
I worked out at the gym yesterday and today my spine feels wonderful!
I love the view I have from my office of the skyline and the trees turning color.
Afterglow of spending time with my nearest and dearest yesterday.
Despite all of the alcohol I drank yesterday I'm feeling ok and am being productive at work (horray for this impressively high alcohol tolerance!).
Sorry, that was more than I intended to write.