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.
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6 comments:
Whether it helps to hear this or not, I think you should know: you are one of the strongest, most accomplished women I know. I have also heard no fewer than three people in your department say this as well. And my thoughts of you are often filled with how much energy and courage you have. You may not feel it right now, but know that you have support as you reconstruct who you are in the face of all of this and I am sure that your strength and brilliance will shine through. I'm here if you need me.
I am not sure whether your university has this policy, but many now have started giving an extra year to the tenure track when you have a child. It seems to me you could maybe possibly use that extra year these days.
I tried to push through last year, and it turned out to have been a wrong thing to do. So when my last position ended, I decided to take a break for a while. But then there was this perfect ad for a perfect position, and I applied, and got the job, and my break was too short. Even now, a year later, I am still having a hard time with work. If you can, give yourself a break.
I'm on fellowship, a doc. student, so it's added to my woes. It afforded me a break, but also a responsibility to succeed. The break was nice during my bedrest third trimester, but now I feel so guilty for not accomplishing anything substantial during this time, and not feeling like I'm going to be able to during this semester. Myles was my motivation through everything. Now do I just set my sights on some other goal and move forward? I have no more faith in probabilities anymore (and I'm a stats nerd). The highly improbably has happened to me, fuck my chances. Odds are the only thing I depended on, the idea that, likely are, everything will be okay. And it's not. I should probably just blog this huh? LOL
i feel like a lie as well, only without the fancy committees and boards to tell my lies to. i lie to friends and family. and to myself. well, not really to myself, although i should probably try it; i might feel better. maybe the lies to myself are all that this will never change and i will never feel better...which, of course, is bulls**t, EVERYTHING CHANGES.
Hi,
I found your blog through the BabyLossDirectory and I thought I would introduce myself as another atheist stillbirth mom. Nice to meet ya...what's a nice atheist like you doing in a place like this?
Actually, I am Jewish atheist, meaning that I am culturally Jewish but don't believe in a god. That's a little tricky, but I manage it.
My loss was not as late as yours. I found out at 29 weeks, but my son actually died several weeks before (Long story). I actually got very weirdly into religion after his death....started listening to gospel music (which I'd highly recommend religious or not) and kind of thought maybe there was a god and he was punishing me....Yeah. That was the crazy talking. Now I am fully back to my heathen self. I might take on a few of your questions you posed in other entries, but I thought I would introduce myself.
Going through this sucks. It's awful. But I think there is healing eventually.
As an atheist, that was schtick. That after Myles, I was certain there was a god, and (s)he was most decidedly evil, LOL.
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