New. Year.January 2, 2013 at 5:13 pm | Posted in Choosing Happiness., Crazy Talk (aka: Therapy), Meditation., Mindful., Moving On. | 12 Comments
Please forgive my silence.
Probably it’s no surprise to you all that I have not been in a very Good Place for posting. Because when all of your energy is used up just getting out of bed in the morning, there really isn’t much left over for being a good friend. Or a good writer. Or a good ANYTHING, really.
It comes down to this: when my RE told me that she theorized that MAYBE my known uterine issue was to blame for the miscarriage, at least in absence of any other evidence… well, it basically played into my worst fears.
I am, fundamentally, a failure.
And I can’t tell you why this rocked me so hard this time. But I can tell you that it was almost too much for me to handle: I was numb, nearly dead inside. And when I wasn’t numb, I was angry. So angry.
But a couple of things happened.
First? I bought a book which might have changed my life.
I am not a self-help book reader, and I’m not sure what possessed me to stop in my favorite independent bookstore in front of the psychology section on date night with Charlie just before Christmas. But I found this book. And what I read on the back cover captured me enough that I bought it. And I’ve read through it twice now.
It combines meditation, mindfulness AND self-kindness, and already I’m discovering things about myself I didn’t know.
Like, for example, did you know I don’t bother to inhabit my body? I don’t ever acknowlegde my body unless it’s screaming at me to feed it or I’m out on a run and it’s DOING something for me. I spend most of my days stuck in my mind, listening to my Inner Critic tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing.
And I didn’t know that you can actually FEEL emotions in your body. Like when I’m scared – like when I’m on a flight with a lot of turbulence, for example – I actually FEEL that fear in my pelvis. When I listen to a piece of music which makes me happy? I get goosebumps.
And it’s pretty crazy to wake up and realize that at 37, I’ve been living in my head for YEARS now. In. MY. HEAD.
The second thing we did was go to Florida. I don’t know if it was the sun or warmth, or having time to spend with my family, or being away from work and the every day routine, but the first day we were on the beach, I could feel the numb shell around me crack, just a little, and some warmth come in.
I slept a lot, real restful sleep – the kind where you wake up feeling a little better every day.
I ran every day, for fun, and joy, and I didn’t care about pace – just got out there and went. With my sister, with my cousin, on my own. Always to the beach and back, in the morning when it was light out, feeling the sun on my face and shoulders.
And during a run on a ridiculously humid morning, it hit me: Walking away from our embryos, right now, might be the most kind thing I could do for myself.
This isn’t a DECISION, mind you. I’m not talking about walking away forever.
Or wait. Maybe I AM talking about walking away forever. No matter; I truly have no idea what is next.
But what I do know is that I don’t want to live like this anymore. I can’t keep being this angry and hopeless. It’s not good for me OR my family. I don’t have a baby, and it’s unlikely I might ever HAVE another baby. Our ghost child might stay that way: a figment of our hopes and dreams and imagination.
But I can’t stay tethered to the process of pain anymore. ART has turned into punishment for us; no hope of having a baby, yet we do cycles because we need to have exhausted EVERYTHING before we can walk away. Haven’t we – haven’t I – suffered enough yet?
And so. It’s a new year. I’m going to step away from Forcing Decisions for my Life for a while. I’m going to run, work whenever I have work to do, do yoga, really LIVE inside this body of mine, learn more about the person I AM, instead of what who I think I should be. I’m going to meditate in whatever manner that works for me – focus on my feet on the ground, practice metta (self-kindness), and work on softening my anger so that I can see what lies beneath.
New year, new resolutions. I am hoping that 2013 is the year where I finally find some measure of peace.