This is what has come out of yesterday's brainstorm.
What I found myself being told, or telling myself, internally was a dialogue that was constant. All consuming. I really worked hard to learn as I walked the path I now found myself on, for I never wanted to feel the pain of that sort of intense grief ever again. And I seemed to know, innately somewhere in me, that if I “got it” and got the learning in all of this – in fact, in all of my life’s experiences to this point – worked out, then I would not have to even come close to feeling this sort of heat again.
So I began to listen in. Truly sit still and listen to my thoughts. They went something like this:
"The you, the character of you, that you had come to depend on when you were alone – that person is the silent victim in a life changing situation like this. There is little to no comprehension of how deeply and wholly you are affected. All the safety outlets – whether it’s a television show you used to enjoy watching, a certain book genre, a local favourite restaurant perhaps, whatever – they all become extremely painful to visit or watch or read or see. Not only have you changed in terms of relating to loved ones, you can’t even comfort yourself the way you have been so used to because everything contains a memory of the person you were before.
Whether or not you had problems, or even if you thought you did, you certainly had no idea until the bottom of your world as you knew it fell out that you were going to find something as seemingly simple as visiting your favourite coffee shop so bitterly sad, so much so that you avoid it and the pain you know it will bring (perhaps for good, or maybe just until you feel stronger). You shut off from things in this manner, because you also berate yourself: “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s a coffee shop, take yourself in there, order and sit down.” But you can’t do it. It just hurts too much. The last time you sat there, your belly was pushing on the table. Or the last time you read that comfort book, you know were happy. So blissfully unaware. You remember how you felt then and it feels so alien and far removed from how you radiate now. More honest and true to yourself and how you're truly feeling, stronger, but yet so much more wounded.
What was the point of going through all this, to gain a deeper understanding of how things work, if you're then sentenced to a half-life? Of not ever feeling like you will enjoy life again? No, that can't be. It won't be like that. You can't imagine your life without hearty laughter or caring deeply for another person. For people. It will change. But it will take time and more learning and preparation before you get there.
You had been so sure about how straightforward your life was going to remain, weren’t you? And why would you think any differently? You had never heard of anyone around you even knowing of someone who knows someone whose baby had died. All those miscarriages you had. Yes, they were painful. Absolutely no doubt about it. In the moment, those were the worst times of your life, the most horrible things you had to work past and accept and, hell, “just get over” on your own. You told yourself that. The reactions of people around you when you tried to let them in told you so too. Just to get up in the morning and go on as if it didn’t matter, that’s what was important. As if they didn’t matter. As if you didn’t matter. And where did that get you? You wound up with a baby, sure, but that baby left too. And that is a separate issue entirely, not for consideration right now. SO! Who are you? Who are YOU?
It was a challenging question.
