What I Haven't Said Out Loud
Are y'all getting tired of hearing my sad crap, yet? Probably. Do I care? No, not really. While I love seeing my stats go up and while I can't help but want to be THAT blogger that people are sharing links to on their Facebook page, this is still my blog and I can still write what I wanna write, when I wanna write it, whether it's sad or not. I do try to spare you guys though. I still try to keep my Tuesday 10's light-hearted and funny, even though that's not how I always feel. I try to give you a little space in between each sad-type post. It's time for me to talk about it, again. You guys, most days I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water. Not every day, just most days. What does this mean? It means that I feel like a crazy person when I think back to that first week and I tell you this for the first time, I want to go back. I want that first week back. The first week was easy. There were the initial first hours that were like whoa, but thinking back, those hours were easier than these days. Those hours and days were filled with plans, list making, phone calls and errands. I'm good at plans. Go to the funeral home? Check! Write the obituary? Check! Call the church? Check! See, I'm good at stuff when there's stuff to do. I was in survival mode with a ridiculous amount of adrenaline. I also never felt alone. It was like a make-believe life. I wasn't doing any of the "normal routine" stuff I should've been doing. Wasn't going to work. Wasn't planning meals. Wasn't having to do anything I didn't want to do, and it was acceptable. I'm pretty sure I didn't even change a diaper that entire week. There were like seventeen people caring for me and Kaleb at all times. I never slept alone. I never ate alone. I never even fixed my own plate when it was time to eat. Those first six days were "easy" because I didn't have a taste of real life yet. I didn't know what it would feel like to start a new routine. Even though I knew in the back of my head these moments were coming, even though I knew it would all hit me 4ish months later, even though I said it out loud, there was no way of knowing how it would feel. I suppose the it's like having a baby for the first time. You know it's coming. You know in a matter of just a few months you're going to experience unforgettable pain but holy mother effer, you just didn't know it was going to be like this. During that first week, I didn't know what it felt like to lay on the bathroom floor for three hours, crying so hard I threw up. I didn't know what it felt like to be driving and then all of a sudden, feel like I had a knife in my heart and I had to pull over just to catch my breath. I didn't know what it felt like to have someone approach me and say, "so when do you think you and your hubby will start trying for a girl??". During that first week, I didn't know what all these things felt like. Now I do. Like I said earlier, I feel like I'm drowning some days. I have no idea what to do. It's like I'm looking for a feeling of relief that I just can't grasp. I let people babysit Kaleb for me but within two hours of having him back, I'm stressed all over again. I meet up with girlfriends for drinks but I still come home and cry. I cook. I craft. I even weekended out of town, indulged in alone time, slept until noon, had a 90 minute massage, had a facial, and still, I feel like the world is on my shoulders. People say time heals. Well, today, I wanna say this, fuck you time. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I don't have time. I don't wanna wait on time. I wanna feel better. I wanna feel like I'm doing the best I can for Kaleb instead of feeling like a shitty mom. I wanna feel under-whelmed instead of over-whelmed. I wanna feel found instead of lost. I want that first week back because I was numb and right now, numb is easier than this. This. This is painful and broken.