Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Paint it Black

Alright, I'm going to write this in the hopes that there is some sort of catharsis following my admission. Note beforehand though that I really, really have a hard time unloading negative thoughts, because I feel guilty to you. I immediately feel like apologizing, as though sharing my sadness somehow transfers it to you. I hope it doesn't.
This morning I woke up slowly, and the same few lines kept circulating in my mind as it made the shift from dreaming to awake. It was the first few lines of a melancholy poem. It was moving and it put my feelings into words beautifully, but I wondered from where it was born. I mean, I don't remember ever waking up in my life before with a formed intro to a poem in my head. I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget it, but I've left it unfinished, for now. I just don't feel like putting the energy into a sad poem.
I saw a friend the other day while running my errands, and she was as pregnant as I would have been, due in August. At the time I shared her happiness and told her I was so excited for her summer plans. And truly, I was. But as my menacing thoughts are inclined to do, they returned in the silence of nighttime, when Abby was asleep, the dishwasher was running and there was little to do but think and feel. It hit me again, and it's lingered a little bit.
This makes me angry, because I know I'm doing all I can with what we've been handed. I'm celebrating Abby like she's the best invention the world has seen, I'm seeing the naturopath to help my body be as strong and balanced as can be. I'm seeing a specialist to see if we can solve the puzzle as to why it keeps happening. I am being proactive, and I am being mindful of how blessed I am, but some night it's not enough. I don't like that in spite of my best efforts, sometimes sadness visits anyway.
Some nights I still have to cry a bit, and some days it's hard to go through my mental Rolodex of friends and realize the majority of them are expecting, some again. I hate self-pity and it makes me feel small. But I recognize too, after going through these motion three times, that I need to respect their presence in my life and give them some attention now and again. I stop when my mind starts to ask "why?" and plead, "it's not fair!" because that's where the discussion ends for me.
So today, I am trying to fake it till I make it, in the opes that if I act with patience and content, they will make their way back into my day and we can keep on going with business as usual.
As my social graces urge me to, I must apologize. I'm sorry for unloading this sadness into words. But I'm a writer, and this is what I know, and sometimes it hurts to write what's most true, but it's what must be done, in this case.

2 comments:

  1. lot's of hugs to you my friend. you have every right to listen and to validate those feelings. thinking of you. xox

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  2. You are so amazing, Sarah. I am the kind of person who just ignores my feelings until they explode years later (happened a few years ago and it was really bad). I admire you so much for allowing yourself to experience those feelings. I can learn a lot from you.

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