Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Rabbit Hole

Life is just so hard right now. I think all the numbing effects of shock are finally completely gone. All that's left is sadness. and pain. and sorrow. and a deep "missing him constantly" emotion I don't know how to fully describe. I nearly had another nervous breakdown this weekend. Just how much can one person cry and scream and rage and hurt without it actually destroying them? I'll let you know when I get there.

Bryan and I had planned to get away for the weekend. Nothing big, just going away. I like going away. It's nice to be in new places and to feel like you have some say in what goes on in your life. We were all set to go Friday after he got home from work, but - as I'm now seeing is a pattern in my life - it didn't work out for us to go. Bryan pulled something in his neck and was really hurting. So, instead of getting away, I got him medicine and icy-hot and rubbed his neck. Then, he napped on the couch with a heating pad and I went downstairs to sulk and begin unpacking. I had been really looking forward to getting away. I was so very disappointed. (Obviously, it was no one's fault he pulled his neck). It was just one more instance of life not being mine to control. I fumed all night long as I couldn't sleep anyway (what else is new) and by the next morning I was in full "I hate this life and I'm going to run away" mode. I decided I was going away. End of sentence. I stomped around throwing things back in the suitcase. Bryan, who was better but not 100% yet, came to see what I was up to. I raged about how much I hate our life and this house and everything else and how I was leaving. He wondered where I was going and I told him the truth: I have no idea. I just started throwing things in the car. He, in his ever-calm and loving way just said, "I'm coming with you. I won't let  you go without me". So I impatiently yet appreciatively (I love that he loves me even when I'm a mess) waited while he re-packed his things and locked up the house. We climbed in the car and set off to no where - anywhere - together. (Looking back - this was Saturday. I'm no good on Saturdays). There is not much more to tell about our trip. We really didn't do anything. Just drove around, ate out, talked and simply got out of the house for a few days.

I'm just so lost. I don't know what to do or where to go. I don't want to be around anyone except Bryan. I am just so sad and that's all there is to it.

I miss him.

I think it's all been more traumatizing then I've realized. I try to sleep and the night he died just plays over and over and over in my mind. I guess my mind is trying to find the place where we did something wrong. The place to note what we could do differently in the future.  But there is no "place". So it'll just play again and again and again. I hate trying to go to sleep.

When I do eventually fall asleep, I dream about people with babies all around me. It's always something like that. Tons of woman holding babies and me, all alone, just there watching them. Always me as the outsider. Always them with the babies.

The other night I dreamed about a person we know who's currently pregnant. It was horrible. She had the baby - a boy of course - and we were babysitting him. Then, when she came to pick him up, she was pregnant again and telling us how excited she was. It was horrible.

All these dreams are the same. I don't get what everyone else has. Yep, that's my life.


Today, I found a movie called Rabbit Hole on Netflix. It's about a couple who lost their only son. I watched it and had so many "yep, I totally know what that's like" moments. The story is based on a play written by David Lindsay-Abaire.  Obviously, he knows exactly what it feels like to lose your only child. It openly speaks to the emotions: numbness, anger, rage, sadness, hurt, obsession, panic, outrage, contempt, and so many other things. It deals with so many of the common situations you find yourself in. Going to the store, dealing with a pregnancy in the family, people telling you to just have another baby, trying to be "normal" again, the stupid crap people say about "God's will" and such. (Baking endless pies because you just need something - anything - to do with your hands). It's all there. It shows what it's like to try to live in the world that doesn't understand. He get's it. If you want to try to understand what it's like, or if you've been through a loss, I recommend it.

1 comment:

  1. Shortly after our loss I watched the same movie. I don't remember much of it because it was too fresh. I am so sorry for your baby boy.

    It has been 11 months for us and not a moment goes by where I'm not numb. I still want to run away. I still want to leave it all behind.

    If you ever wanna talk please message me letterstoleia@yahoo.ca.

    I wrote a book about losing our daughter and how I felt. I found your blog from the blog hop.

    Hugs to you

    angie www.letterstoleia.ca


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