I'm feeling gross today. No, it's not just because I haven't showered. I think I'm having awful repercussions of the grief I thought I was handling in the wake of Jared's suicide.
Life moves on so quickly. Will it really be two weeks tomorrow? Only two weeks? Two weeks since he took his life and ours changed forever? It can't be. There's been so many things going on. I've been energetic --happy, even.
I have a kink in my neck from a nap I took this morning, in my pajamas, when I should have been folding laundry instead. I'm afraid to go to my midwife appointment because I've been neglecting my health. I can't feel the baby moving much. I'm afraid something is wrong. My friend lost her baby at 36 weeks on Saturday; my heart aches for her. I was just mean online to one of my best friends over semantics when describing how people mourn the dead.
Best language I can use at this point.
If I died tomorrow, would people get over it quickly, too? Would they move on so fast...letting life carry them along? Or would I be missed? (Don't worry; I'm fine mentally --I won't be doing anything to harm myself physically).
I've learned so much about the Gospel lately; about the Plan of Salvation, about my purpose, my role, and I've been humbled. I've learned patience and faith and reliance and trust. And yet I find my down days are just as bad as ever. Is it the Depression alone? The pregnancy? The small dosage of medication I'm living on so I harm my baby as little as possible? Is it the stress of knowing that our lives could be drastically changing again so soon? The lack of control I have over half of my home? The clutter, the mess, the bills, the debt, the worry, the anguish, the frustration at relatives and friends who are just completely thoughtless in their words and actions?
All of it. Probably.
I'm a downer today. I didn't want to be. I saw beautiful photography of autumn on etsy this morning --I smelled the cold when the kids rushed out the door to school. I smell Autumn in everything and it always gives me joy. But not now. Not this moment. This moment has taken over logic and pushed me to the edge of reason.
I'm always humiliated when I give up reason and logic for emotion and pain.
My mom told me the other day that I'm a strong, capable mother and woman. That I can do hard things that other mothers refuse to do. I told her it's not because I'm strong, it's because I make hard choices. I'm dealt these choices --do I take the easy way out and whine? Or do I reach down inside of myself and just do it?
My mother-in-law thanked me over and over for allowing Brandon to fly down to help his sister after the suicide. I told her it was a no-brainer. Him flying down to help his sister!? OF COURSE. Me driving down later with all the kids? No doubt in my mind.
I'm not that strong. I just make choices.
I wish today I could have made the choice to A. Not aired my demons on Facebook forums and B. Not written such a random, hard-to-read post.
But I always feel better when I write publicly. Not sure why, but I do. Every time. Like clockwork. Like the stars. Like truth. Every time I write, I feel better. Every time I communicate with the universe, I feel stronger. So, dear reader, I hope you can deal with it, because I'm feeling better already.
PAIN has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.