Monday, September 19, 2011

Now That I am Done Baring My Soul

I just posted three old unpublished posts.  I wrote them last month and while I had very good reasons for not posting them at the time, I reconsidered those choices and posted them. 

I am still very depressed and could write another post about all the things that are contributing to this week's episode, but I won't.  I am tired of reading the never-ending litany of depression posts.  So either I am going to stop writing this blog altogether to focus on building Busy Black Woman, or I am going to archive all of the sad stuff and start all over again.  Of course, that does not mean that I will not continue to be depressed.  But it might give me some space from all of the negativity that just never stops flowing--no  matter how many fingers and toes I use to plug the dike.

I am so tired and exhausted from feeling like this.  And everytime I pray for change, it comes and things get even worse.  Now my mother is sick.  So exactly how I am supposed to handle that? 

I don't remember what stage of grief I am supposed to be in right now, but I am depressed and sad and so I am going to stop writing, get cleaned up and head over to the Shrine to just sit.  And maybe I'll go for a walk to clear my head.  And then maybe I'll have enough courage to go visit my mother without feeling sorry for myself.

A Bit of Clarity

Early August, posting it now.

This afternoon, I heard a radio interview that turned on a light bulb for me...I have been in mourning since April.

I was listening to a program about emotions, and a caller shared a story about her difficulty with processing grief while going through a certain period of stress on her job.  And the psychologist on the panel suggested that her emotional issues on the job were somehow related to the lingering, unresolved grief she had experienced.  And then it hit me like a ton of bricks that my current situation is very similar.

I wrote about my mother in law on the other blog, and I wrote a little bit about the oddness of it all here a few weeks later, but I finally accepted the fact this morning that I have been in a fog of unacknowledged grief for weeks.  I realized it yesterday while in New York because her absence at my niece's shower was obvious.  I've thought of her in small ways when the husband mentions her, but it has been very strange.

But I really felt a shift today while listening to this program.  I realized that in the lead-up to her passing, I bottled everything up because the husband did not want to talk about the inevitable.  Then I went on total BBW auto-pilot to get everyone through the funeral.  We returned to DC and I tried to go on with life as normal, only to be confronted with the reality of my mother's situation.  And I wrapped myself in trying to find solutions to that, and continued to do my BBW stuff and just generally wore myself down to where I was this past Friday.

This past Friday, I missed a college fair because I misread the logistics and did not plan appropriately.  I could blame the circumstances of the night before, when I spent the entire say watching my Baby Niece, but I will not go there.  Then I missed the event that I was planning to attend on Saturday, which would have been my cover story for being in New York.  I have a few other undone tasks on my to do list and in general, I am distracted and unfocused.  I did not go out with my friend at all during her month off from work, and I skipped hanging out with my sorors because I was feeling sorry for myself.

This level of lethargy is so not me, and when I heard a semi-plausible explanation on the radio today, I claimed it because I know it is at least partially true.  I have been on auto-pilot for months, and it is not working.  I need to deal with my grief, but I do not have an outlet for it.  I have been angry a lot and I know it has a lot to do with keeping a lot of my emotions bottled inside. 

The truth is, I cannot talk to the husband because she was his mother and he would rather not talk about it.  That is how the men in his family *deal* with things (which is to avoid them), and while that is totally unfair to me, that works for him.  And a lot of the resentments about a lot of things I have kept to myself over the years are starting to percolate.

I am not good at sharing with others because I don't feel that I can really talk to anyone about anything.  I spend a lot of time by myself, so that means I generally have no one to talk to except through the blogs.  How sad is that?  And most of the time, no one is reading...


Another one from the archive. Written back in August.

I have been in a terrible funk lately, brought on by a general feeling of powerlessness over various circumstances of my life.  The usual litany of general worries include money, job and chaos...however, lately, that list includes health worries, lingering grief, and anxiety about my new business.

All of that pales in comparison to the ordeal one of my classmates from high school is enduring right now.  Her little girl might be dying.

I am surprised at how deeply this has impacted me, because quite honestly, I do not remember being friends with this woman at all.  But like most of my FB 'friends' she is someone who shared my space at a particular moment in time, so we are connected.

I cannot imagine what it must be like to have a child go through what her daughter has been through.  She and her husband mother have kept everyone informed through regular updates, and because I have been so touched by her story, I have been following a;ong and keeping the family in prayer.  Last night she posted that the little girl's chances of survival through the night were slim--but thankfully she made it through.  Unfortunately, her prognosis is still very grave.

Back in February, we were given essentially the same grim news about my ailing mother-in-law.  And though it hurt like hell to think that her time with us was short, I accepted it with steely resolve assuming that my husband would need my strength when the awful moment arrived.  And then of course, I was not even there...until two days later.  I still rose to the challenge, only to crumble pebble by pebble in the time since.

Today I am writing and praying for strength.  My classmate will need it whether her daughter lives or dies (but I am really hoping for a miracle).  It seems almost inappropriate to pray for a child I will never know, but she is a child.  Children are supposed to live.  I am especially touched by this because I look at my beautiful Baby Niece and know that my world would absolutely splinter into a million pieces if anything happened to her.  So Lord, please heal my classmate's baby.

The irony of this situation is that I did not pray in a similar manner for my mother in law and that makes me feel vile in hindsight.  I thought that it would be more realistic to pray for her to make a peaceful transition and for the family to remain intact in the aftermath.  I prayed for the nieces and nephews and their ability to withstand the loss of a grandparent--which is always harder on the older ones.  I am unsure if I took the right approach...but I know that God knew better than I did about her situation.

As a person who is slowly rebuilding her faith, this is one of those moments when I have to believe that no matter what happens to that little girl, God knows best.  But sometimes it is hard to believe that in the midst of sadness, tragedy, heartache, despair, destruction, doom, and just pure HELL that YOU are here with us.

Babies Booming

From the archives of unpublished posts. I wrote this the day before I declared a September reset on the Busy Black Woman blog.

Beyonce is pregnant.  Tina Fey is pregnant.  Fantasia is pregnant.  Jennifer Garner is pregnant.  Hillary Duff is pregnant.  Plenty of random crackheads are pregnant.
I am not.

I hesitated to write this particular article because it is so personal and I think that no one really cares that much about how it must feel to watch all of these celebrities and crazy people have children when you are staring at 38.  And have been married for ten years. 

No one cares because there are tons of women out there who are not married who also do not have children.  Instead of applauding their responsible act of sacrifice, they get treated to a media onslaught of articles that question whether they are being too picky since that is the only reason why an accomplished woman in her 30s/40s/50s would still be single.

Married women without children get a lot of pity.  And face a lot of uncomfortable questions.  Yes, I have thought about fertility treatments, and I pass.  Yes, I have thought about adoption, and I am still thinking about it.  Yes, I have considered just giving up.

Here is my life has no space for a child anymore.  When I was willing to make space, there was no time.  When I was willing to make time, something else occupied it.  Now, it is just too hard to think about having a baby when I have older parents to think about.  We just went through the loss of my husband's mother...and I feel bad enough that I failed her on the grandchild front.  Now I've got other crap to deal with, so maybe that ship has sailed.

It hurts to say that, but I think that ship has sailed.

So if that is truly the case, then I need to make other plans.  The George Bailey arc of my life will ensure that I will either never get to leave DC or I will have too many children.  Well, seeing as how I believe that ship has sailed, then it is time for me to get out of dodge.  I have been toying with the idea of going abroad for years now...I decided yesterday that it is no longer a dream.  I need a way to restart my life from this current state of duldrums.