My life these past weeks has been a haze. I think I've been walking around in shock, going through the motions with little comprehension of what's going on around me. My brain is mush, it's gone. I have no short or long term memory (no it's not the weed, LOL) and I rarely experience any strong emotion; except when I do, and then it's immense pain and sadness and anger and everything bad you can feel. I take no real joy in anything (not even food) even though I manage to smile or even joke around or make light conversation, it's more out of a sense social obligation than from feelings of happiness. The major exception is Simone, of course. Looking at her face, hearing her crazy ponderings about this world still brings me a genuine smile, and I'm thankful for that. If something happened to her, I would kill myself. Period. I realized that today when my sister took her to NP. I'm so scared of something happening to her now. I couldn't do this again.
I've thought a lot about my death since I had my postpartum appt. with my midwife. She referred to me as an 'angel', and felt it necessary to reiterate how close I was to dying. I hadn't thought much of it until then, and then I thought what a sick tragedy that would've been for DD and DH, and all who love me. But if it weren't for Simone and my family, it wouldn't have bothered me that much. Even when they were wheeling me into surgery, I thought 'this is it', and I was at peace with it. I was wheeled past most of my loved ones, and I saw their faces, and I felt at the time like I was saying my last goodbye.
But here I am. I was wrong. I didn't die. But part of me died. And I don't really like the 'new me'. And I don't like life much anymore even. I think what is bothering me today is just putting together my CV (like a resume) and realizing how far off track I am from where I wanted to be. And I feel like I've let everyone down. I know I've let myself down, but I feel like I've let everyeone down, and I have absolutely no desire anymore to do any of it, so I know that I will continue to let them down. And it's depressing because I've made them expect so much over the years. But now I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore on days like this.
Imagining myself, sitting down with my committee, and going through evaluations, and telling them what I've 'accomplished' and what I'm going to do next year, and yada yada yada. I feel like I'm going to be making promises I can't keep, the whole thing is going to be one big line of bullshit. And it makes me feel like shit to know that because these people believe in me. But I'm not the same old me. I'm not excited about research. I'm not excited about next year, or getting publications. I don't believe in me. Why should I put any effort in trying to get them to believe in me? And I don't want them to pity me either. And above all, I dont want to make excuses, and promises, and tell them everything is fine, or will be fine. Because I don't know anymore. I don't know anything.
So, I'm sorry to unload my depression on all of you. I've tried to shield all of you for the most part from my turmoil (except for my bad poetry). I've been posting on a message board with other bereaved parents, and they get most of my late night rants that would've, under any other circumstance, gone to you all. I know there isn't much you can say (please don't tell me to get help, LMAO, I am) but I always feel better after writing my woes on here for some reason.
Please don't worry. I've been here before, and I'll be here again; wallowing. But I will feel better tomorrow, I will forget this. And I'll finish my CV and write my personal statement, and I'll feel like a lie, but I'll go through the motions just like every other day and maybe one of these days I'll be able to better understand the 'new' me, and not loathe her so much.