I have so many to cry tonight.
I long to empty my gut wrenching tears and be done.
I want to be me. I miss me.
How many times have I told people near me in the last couple years that I miss me.
Some have laughed.
Some have rolled their eyes.
Most have not gotten the point.
But today I realized why.
As I recounted the agony of bringing my firstborn into the world, I could nearly feel the pain again.
It went on for so long.
I thought I would never be the same.
Lo and behold, I am not.
When the story came to an end, she said something that rang very true to my heart.
She spoke to the loss that happened. At a time when I expected to just live and be and enjoy the moment, I was dealing with loss that really felt like death.
I have felt that loss in every area of my life sans one.
My intimate friendships have taken huge hits.
My just-learning-to-know-you friendships have been so limited.
Worst of all, my spiritual faith seemed to take a huge hit. First I was too sick to think and felt carried along. Then when I felt like my faith was getting back up and figuring out how to brush off the debris, the bottom fell out of my world.
The only place I have not felt like crumbled was my marriage. I can't say that I have felt loss there, per se. Yet, there have been many times and places that we have longed to do and be more but could not.
So back to the tears.
Tonight I just want to mourn the fact that I did lose me.
I really have reason to feel like I miss me.
I am not the same person I used to be.
Who gave whom the permission to change it all up?
1 comment:
I never thought about enduring profound trauma and grief like this. You kind of lose yourself - your happy, trusting, "okay with the world" self. And what you get instead is the constant challenge not to cry all the time and look at life as something to endure day by day, dish by dish, load by load, snotty nose by snotty nose. I'ts been over 2 years and I still miss me. I'm believing that the new me that will emerge will be a better me,a happier me, and kinder, more considerate me. I pray that. I do know, however, that I have developed a profound, insightful understanding of the patience and sensitivity that caring for grieving people requires. That is a good thing.
Post a Comment