Over the next few weeks, you may all think that I have gone completely “off the reservation” as the saying goes.
That’s me folks. I think I’m driving the crazy train, losing my marbles, wigging out… every used up cliche you can think of. Muddled up.
Please don’t “mute” me, I’m just working my way through things. And writing about them (very publicly) seems to be helping me get through it all. It’s the best therapy I can think of right now.
Two weeks from this past Sunday I turn 36. That’s not a reason to break out in hives.
The next day is the twins’ first birthday. One in our hands, one in hearts.
It’s not a bad dream. It’s not a TV show that I’ve gotten too caught up in. It’s my life.
But we’re not done with the fun trip down memory lane. On the 21st, just four days before Christmas, we remember the one year anniversary of her funeral… of laying her to rest. But I feel like we didn’t, because her cremated remains still sit on my dresser. I didn’t want to bury her in case we ever moved, but now I am regretting not having a place to go visit her, a tombstone to lay flowers, a place to sit and talk to her…
My overwhelming grief.
And clearly I’m not dealing well with it.
My emotions are all over the place. And it’s not a day by day thing. It’s a minute by minute freak show.
I can be overwrought with sadness one moment, and the next moment I am bouncing off the walls giggling, like I’m bat shit crazy. Or delirious. Then I’m moping around, not motivated to do anything, followed by a short spree of “must organize the entire house NOW!”
Or HAPPY??? Oh hell no!
How can I be happy? That’s pretty much the thought that runs through my mind every time I laugh.
Then I get sad. And then I think “How can you possibly be sad? Look at all you have! Others lost both! Others have twins who are suffering from all kinds of issues. Some never even got to have any! You have a healthy, happy baby!!”
But it doesn’t work like that, does it? Anyone who has ever lost someone knows that even if there is someone else out there hurting more, it doesn’t lessen your own grief.
This, my friends, is also the dilemma of losing one twin. It’s a constant battle of ups and downs. I feel guilty for grieving, I feel guilty for being happy.
My body is also wigging out. I feel like a vagabond with scabies or something. I’m itching like crazy. I itch my arms until they bleed. I have this crazy rash on the inside of my elbows and across my collar bone that is like little hives and is red and itchy. TMI? Sorry!
I’m tired, but I can’t sleep.
I’m hungry but I don’t want to eat. Or I want to eat everything in sight. (I ate an entire carrot cake over a two day period! Oops.) And don’t you dare bring chocolate anywhere near me!
I would drink myself silly, but I have children to take care of and besides, the family drank all the good stuff over Thanksgiving weekend!! And I don’t want to get out of my PJs to go buy more. Plus, they don’t look too kindly on a mom in the liquor store at 10am with a 2 year old and a baby.
I will be lost in my pain, lost in my self pity when something special happens. I’m standing their itching and twitching and feeling like I might just completely crack and I’ll hear a sweet little voice from the living room holler: “You know what I love mommy?”
“What do you love?”
“I love YOU.”
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