my dead daughter gave me my father back.
in the months since i realized my mother has narc1ss1st1c pers0nal1ty d1s0rder, we've learned that she's lied about incest, tried to convince all of us that we were molested a la munchhausen by proxy, and last but not least told my entire father's family that if they didn't cut off my father after the divorce, they could not continue relationships with us (the kids).
i saw my father this past monday, after about 10 years (if not more). he's scared shitless of my mother. he is so different than she is...he's exactly like us- my sisters and i. it makes me so sad that we've missed so many years; it makes me so sad that we've been mentally and emotionally abused by my mother all this time and had not even known it.
i'm sad that i would have let my father go to his grave without having a relationship with him without the shit goggles my mother put on all of us...and i'm REALLY sad that i got my dad back because my baby is dead. because, really, that's what happened. that's how this all went down.
how do i reconcile it all? happy, sad. my baby has given me so much, yet there's nothing i can do for her. except realize that i am her. she is me. and i'm gonna take these gifts, goddamn it.
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
the list
the mission, as i've chosen to accept it: write a list of people i could bag with marital impunity, given the unbelievable and impossible opportunity to do so.
ok kalakly, here goes:
1. i must also pick brad pitt, but not with the blonde. i first started digging him in 'seven' with the short dark hair; that's also when i started realizing he's pretty talented, which is hot. and come on...FIGHT CLUB (not for the body...for the raunch)??? jesus christ! he is starting to weird me out lately, but whatever.
2. clive owen. so fucking hot in 'closer'. and i have a thing for the british accent, but not the wussy kind like jude law.
3. gordon ramsay. what a hard-ass. plus the accent again.
4. michael hall from 'six feet under' and 'dexter'. i especially love him on dexter...so much so, i will even watch it on cbs with commercials and editing.
5. nicole kidman, natalie portman, and christina ricci. not necessarily together.
i tag meg, tash, and niobe.....HA!
ok kalakly, here goes:
1. i must also pick brad pitt, but not with the blonde. i first started digging him in 'seven' with the short dark hair; that's also when i started realizing he's pretty talented, which is hot. and come on...FIGHT CLUB (not for the body...for the raunch)??? jesus christ! he is starting to weird me out lately, but whatever.
2. clive owen. so fucking hot in 'closer'. and i have a thing for the british accent, but not the wussy kind like jude law.
3. gordon ramsay. what a hard-ass. plus the accent again.
4. michael hall from 'six feet under' and 'dexter'. i especially love him on dexter...so much so, i will even watch it on cbs with commercials and editing.
5. nicole kidman, natalie portman, and christina ricci. not necessarily together.
i tag meg, tash, and niobe.....HA!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
tagged
thanks to c., i'm unstuck for today. it's been easy going over here? weird, i know. not so much to write lately, except mother drama, which is not really that interesting for any of you, i'm sure.
The rules:
1) Link to the person who tagged you.
2) Post the rules.
3) Share six non-important things / habits / quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people.
5) Be sure the people you tagged KNOW you tagged them by commenting what you did.
1) when i was in the 5th grade, i pulled out my baby teeth, one a day for a week. at the time, i thought it felt good; i used stick pins and pen caps. in retrospect, it was the worst year of my childhood and i was trying to get attention. which never happened. one of the pointy teeth on the side was really slow coming in after that, and luckily alyssa milano had the same issue at the same time, AND i happened to already resemble her...so it worked out. especially with boys.
2) when i was about 5 years old, i thought i was sexy. i was hot for boys. i had boyfriends at school and in the neighborhood. i remember it so clearly, those feelings, and to this day i give kids so much more respect because of it.
3) i only wash my hair once a week. i used to be an everydayer, but once you get your head used to reduced stripping, your hair gets so much less oily. no one ever believes me until they try it. when people compliment my hair i always tell them it's because i wash it once a week and they scoff, like that's gross. meanwhile their hair looks pretty ratty!
4) i used to be a florist. and a physician's office manager. and a retail manager. and a massage therapist. and a henna body artist. and a healthcare finance consultant. and a sex educator. and a spa owner.
5) my mother used to have to pray about whether or not to allow me to do things i asked her permission for. like, "mom can i go to nora's house after school tomorrow?" "i don't know, i have to pray about it." and i was in high school.
6) i can't wait for spring to come and everyone in this tiny town to see my arms covered in new tattoos. i'm thinking about coloring my hair too, like burgundy or something. do i want to feel like the town freak? do i just not want anyone to talk to me? maybe both. and i'm excited.
ok so here's who has to do this too:
meg
missing one
depressionista
The rules:
1) Link to the person who tagged you.
2) Post the rules.
3) Share six non-important things / habits / quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people.
5) Be sure the people you tagged KNOW you tagged them by commenting what you did.
1) when i was in the 5th grade, i pulled out my baby teeth, one a day for a week. at the time, i thought it felt good; i used stick pins and pen caps. in retrospect, it was the worst year of my childhood and i was trying to get attention. which never happened. one of the pointy teeth on the side was really slow coming in after that, and luckily alyssa milano had the same issue at the same time, AND i happened to already resemble her...so it worked out. especially with boys.
2) when i was about 5 years old, i thought i was sexy. i was hot for boys. i had boyfriends at school and in the neighborhood. i remember it so clearly, those feelings, and to this day i give kids so much more respect because of it.
3) i only wash my hair once a week. i used to be an everydayer, but once you get your head used to reduced stripping, your hair gets so much less oily. no one ever believes me until they try it. when people compliment my hair i always tell them it's because i wash it once a week and they scoff, like that's gross. meanwhile their hair looks pretty ratty!
4) i used to be a florist. and a physician's office manager. and a retail manager. and a massage therapist. and a henna body artist. and a healthcare finance consultant. and a sex educator. and a spa owner.
5) my mother used to have to pray about whether or not to allow me to do things i asked her permission for. like, "mom can i go to nora's house after school tomorrow?" "i don't know, i have to pray about it." and i was in high school.
6) i can't wait for spring to come and everyone in this tiny town to see my arms covered in new tattoos. i'm thinking about coloring my hair too, like burgundy or something. do i want to feel like the town freak? do i just not want anyone to talk to me? maybe both. and i'm excited.
ok so here's who has to do this too:
meg
missing one
depressionista
Friday, January 18, 2008
1-7
domestic diva tagged me days ago...don't expect anything as cool as meg's list, but here we go:
1. i love chocolate ice cream with potato chips. it reminds me of a frosty with french fries. i also love vanilla ice cream with crushed red pepper. "hello, my name is charmedgirl. i am a compulsive overeater. i think i killed my baby because of it." god that one turned out alot more morbid than i intended...
2. i'm obsessed with ebay. somehow, when i win something...those last few moments, palms all clammy...i can forget everything else. then my cheap ass has to log onto paypal, and i feel shittier than before. BUT...when that package with my vintage antique huge ornate jewelry comes in the mail...sometimes it's all worth it. sometimes it's a little anti-climactic, but whatever. when i open that find, that piece, and it was only $9.45 or something like that, it's fabulous.
3. i love trying illicit drugs. i drank for the first time at a pretty normal age (16), but i didn't try the mary-jane until about 21. the mj, for me, not so fun. it's funny for a bit, then i eat like a stuffed hog before going into a coma. c0ke, not so fun. feels like a bad diet pill. ec$tacy, yeah. now that's what i'm talking about. they even use it for therapy, so hard-asses like me can open up despite crushing fear of vulnerability. i was about to try mushr00ms but, you know, i got pregnant unexpectedly. at this point, i'm terrified to try anything new. the last thing i need is to hallucinate about dead babies.
4. ok so far my list is all about vices...shit, why not throw one in about $ex? i love vibrat0rs. i've bought one for every woman close to me (like sisters); i even bought one for my mother-in-law one mother's day (i think she was hinting for it, so i'm not THAT much of a freak). back when i worked in a cubicle, i would sometimes have outings with co-workers to the local adult shop where i would show them what stuff to buy (their husbands probably thought they were cheating). nowadays, i've tried to use the mood-rising effects of 0rgasm to my benefit since p@ige died...at one point i tried to do it every day, and i think it may have been working...but it's not always easy to keep up something like that.
5. i've never been dumped. i've broken up with boyfriends without wanting to, as soon as i felt it coming. fuck that.
6. i have a thing about being shorter than those i'm out with. i wear alot of heels, since soulmate friend and my sisters are 5'8-5'10. i'm 5'5 and i hate looking UP. husband is barely 5'7 and i love it.
7. i don't believe in right and wrong. i don't believe in universal truth. i don't believe in 'god in heaven' so when i say that, it's more like a curse-word. i wish i could believe i would see my baby alive, and that she's with all of my new sister-friends' babies, but i just can't. i secretly wish i did.
now, don't all of you unsubscribe at once, ok?
1. i love chocolate ice cream with potato chips. it reminds me of a frosty with french fries. i also love vanilla ice cream with crushed red pepper. "hello, my name is charmedgirl. i am a compulsive overeater. i think i killed my baby because of it." god that one turned out alot more morbid than i intended...
2. i'm obsessed with ebay. somehow, when i win something...those last few moments, palms all clammy...i can forget everything else. then my cheap ass has to log onto paypal, and i feel shittier than before. BUT...when that package with my vintage antique huge ornate jewelry comes in the mail...sometimes it's all worth it. sometimes it's a little anti-climactic, but whatever. when i open that find, that piece, and it was only $9.45 or something like that, it's fabulous.
3. i love trying illicit drugs. i drank for the first time at a pretty normal age (16), but i didn't try the mary-jane until about 21. the mj, for me, not so fun. it's funny for a bit, then i eat like a stuffed hog before going into a coma. c0ke, not so fun. feels like a bad diet pill. ec$tacy, yeah. now that's what i'm talking about. they even use it for therapy, so hard-asses like me can open up despite crushing fear of vulnerability. i was about to try mushr00ms but, you know, i got pregnant unexpectedly. at this point, i'm terrified to try anything new. the last thing i need is to hallucinate about dead babies.
4. ok so far my list is all about vices...shit, why not throw one in about $ex? i love vibrat0rs. i've bought one for every woman close to me (like sisters); i even bought one for my mother-in-law one mother's day (i think she was hinting for it, so i'm not THAT much of a freak). back when i worked in a cubicle, i would sometimes have outings with co-workers to the local adult shop where i would show them what stuff to buy (their husbands probably thought they were cheating). nowadays, i've tried to use the mood-rising effects of 0rgasm to my benefit since p@ige died...at one point i tried to do it every day, and i think it may have been working...but it's not always easy to keep up something like that.
5. i've never been dumped. i've broken up with boyfriends without wanting to, as soon as i felt it coming. fuck that.
6. i have a thing about being shorter than those i'm out with. i wear alot of heels, since soulmate friend and my sisters are 5'8-5'10. i'm 5'5 and i hate looking UP. husband is barely 5'7 and i love it.
7. i don't believe in right and wrong. i don't believe in universal truth. i don't believe in 'god in heaven' so when i say that, it's more like a curse-word. i wish i could believe i would see my baby alive, and that she's with all of my new sister-friends' babies, but i just can't. i secretly wish i did.
now, don't all of you unsubscribe at once, ok?
Friday, January 11, 2008
personal jesus
p@ige was going to fix everything.
she was my miracle (well, my coincidental) baby. her conception made me one of "them"; a reproductively normal girl. i peed, i got two lines, just like that. even my response was normal..."what the fuck? i wasn't planning on this! this is terrrrrrible! the universe is screwing me yet again!" we had already decided that we wouldn't have any more children, and it took a while to override my previous plans.
but once i did override my old mindset, that baby was my ticket to getting the normal pregnancy, labor and delivery, the normal breastfeeding. i was going to have the experience of attachment with a single baby.
the pregnancy was normal...it sucked ass. you are reading this, so the rest went straight to hell. but you already know all that.
i guess in retrospect, that was alot of responsibility to heave onto a little baby. i am starting to realize that she was not going to fix things. maybe the reason i never felt attachment towards the kids i have isn't because i was handicapped during the pregnancy, isn't because of the c-section, isn't because they were in the NICU for three weeks, isn't because i was hooked up to a breastpump like a cow for a year, isn't because there were three of them and it was hell.
in retrospect, maybe p@ige would have been born alive and i'd have the same attachment issues with her as i do with the others. maybe another baby isn't going to solve those problems for me, either.
but she died. and she's forcing me to think about the fact that nothing can help me but my own blood, sweat, and tears. not for a fraction of a second do i believe that my baby is dead for a reason, but she is teaching me about myself. her being dead is forcing me to confront myself; forcing me to realize that no outside force would have or could help my emotional/spiritual self.
i don't feel attachment with my children because i was brought up by a mother who was more like a spoiled rotten, bossy older sister. i learned very early not to get emotionally attached, it can only lead to pain.
maybe the only baby left to be cared for is me, and in doing that, my babies who lived.
she was my miracle (well, my coincidental) baby. her conception made me one of "them"; a reproductively normal girl. i peed, i got two lines, just like that. even my response was normal..."what the fuck? i wasn't planning on this! this is terrrrrrible! the universe is screwing me yet again!" we had already decided that we wouldn't have any more children, and it took a while to override my previous plans.
but once i did override my old mindset, that baby was my ticket to getting the normal pregnancy, labor and delivery, the normal breastfeeding. i was going to have the experience of attachment with a single baby.
the pregnancy was normal...it sucked ass. you are reading this, so the rest went straight to hell. but you already know all that.
i guess in retrospect, that was alot of responsibility to heave onto a little baby. i am starting to realize that she was not going to fix things. maybe the reason i never felt attachment towards the kids i have isn't because i was handicapped during the pregnancy, isn't because of the c-section, isn't because they were in the NICU for three weeks, isn't because i was hooked up to a breastpump like a cow for a year, isn't because there were three of them and it was hell.
in retrospect, maybe p@ige would have been born alive and i'd have the same attachment issues with her as i do with the others. maybe another baby isn't going to solve those problems for me, either.
but she died. and she's forcing me to think about the fact that nothing can help me but my own blood, sweat, and tears. not for a fraction of a second do i believe that my baby is dead for a reason, but she is teaching me about myself. her being dead is forcing me to confront myself; forcing me to realize that no outside force would have or could help my emotional/spiritual self.
i don't feel attachment with my children because i was brought up by a mother who was more like a spoiled rotten, bossy older sister. i learned very early not to get emotionally attached, it can only lead to pain.
maybe the only baby left to be cared for is me, and in doing that, my babies who lived.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
fuck it
THERE! i did it.how you like me now, 2008?
i have mixed feelings about this photo. this girl is awaiting her commencement ceremony from graduate school. she's also awaiting her first IVF cycle, which started a month later.
the anticiaption was fruitful.
she's gone. like, forever. the question now is, can i manage another version of that? can i somehow muster up the hopeful, the positive, with the utter shit?
can peace and madness co-exist?
we'll see, i guess. that's the best i can do.
for now.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
a tale of three pregnancies
i was married for the first time when i was 20, he was 29. the day i sent out the wedding invitations, i ate an entire carvel cake in the shape of a bunny. two weeks before the wedding, i cried to two girlfriends on three-way calling that it may be a big mistake. i was young and had yet to find my balls so i went on with the show, with the thought that i could get divorced. it's funny to think about now; i didn't even know the depth of his evil before we married. the day of the wedding, my best friend and soulmate (the one who is now about to give birth) cried the whole time; there was not a single smile in any photograph from her. we separated for the first time three months after the wedding, but got back together. at about the year mark, i fell pregnant. don't you love that term? OOPS...i've fallen pregnant! fuck me.
i was pretty screwed by my own father, so i knew very early on that my first responsibility as a mother was to give my child the best father i could, with the knowledge i had at the time. i mean, i'm no nostradamus, but it was pretty clear that bastard wasn't the one. three days after i learned of my *fall*, i was spread eagle in a clinic. yeah, people, you heard that right: the girl with IF, IUIs, IVF/ICSI, and a dead baby had an abortion. i never felt sad about it- not the day it happened, not months or years later, not during my years of infertility when i had no idea i'd ever be a mother, not even now that my baby is dead. i am nothing but proud that i was a good mother to that child.
fast forward through a divorce after two years of marriage, three years of dating husband, and one year of marriage. soulmate friend had her first baby- a girl. the day after husband held her for the first time, we decided we would start trying for a baby ourselves. my cycles were still off (as usual), but i'd been pregnant, and he'd had a girl *fall* pregnant (hehe- can't help it) as well (both pregnancies ended the same way). after a year, my gyn prescribed clomid. nothing. he referred us to an RE, who performed an IUI with clomid. nothing. i started getting freaked out about the possibility of IVF (i didn't want twins- HA!), so for the next year, i went au natural. acupuncture, herbs, tinctures, charting temps and cervical nectar, LH sticks, meditations, yoga for fertility, visualizations...for a year. and that resulted in, well, nothing. i relented at that point, and we went back to the RE for IVF. long story short, we had three embryos by transfer, transferred three, and had three babies at 32 weeks. one boy, two girls, 4lbs each. NICU for three weeks to learn to feed and grow. all in all, pretty uneventful, despite doctors at every turn warning us not to get too excited; we could end up with three babies, two babies, one baby, or none, give or take countless disabilities of prematurity. but alas, my charmed life proved true to form. three perfect babies.
too bad that's not the end of it. my life with those babies the first year sucked ass. not only did i have all the logistical bullshit of caring for three newborns, i had the infertile girl's guilt for feeling like my life sucked ass with babies. i didn't enjoy them. i have virtually no good memories with them, and i question whether i just don't remember, or if there were any good moments at all. all those years trying, fantasizing, planning...gone to shit. i will always feel robbed (for what i lost) and guilty (for what they lost) about having three at once. and to top it off, i'm now a freak for life. i'm the triplet lady, forever and ever. (little did i know it was just practice for the real freak show: dead baby mom!).
fast forward through their second year, during which we bought our first home (an hour away from where we're from). it was my second year of co-existing anxiety and depression; i had gone from a successful, educated, socializing girl to a homemaking mother of three in her first home, waaaay away from home (well, far enough to keep me from a casual night out with the girls). i was all over the place. november brought the start of the holiday season, and the switch flipped. i was getting myself back together. we had decided that we wouldn't have any more kids, i started working out and losing the baby weight, and planned for my future...until the fateful morning in january when i opened the bedroom door where husband was sleeping. a gush of body odor assaulted my ultra-sensitive nose and i felt hatred for him, and in that moment, i knew i could be pregnant. two lines instantly appeared. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? i didn't want more children. i was just beginning to get my shit together! goddamn you, universe!
so, there i found myself, pregnant. there began the process of adjusting all thought, plan, and reason to the positives of another baby. i could experience labor and birth. i could experience the joys of the 1:1 mother to baby ratio. i could experience actual breastfeeding as opposed to pumping 3/4 gallon of milk a day for a year like a goddamn dairy cow. the sibling age gap seemed ideal. my thoughts about sending all three to kindergarten on the same day and finding myself alone were gone...i'd have a three year old to buffer. on the flip side, i had alot of ambivalence about all those positives; how would i deal with the guilt of giving all that 1:1 time and attachment to her and not my first three?
fast forward to her due date....
i was pretty screwed by my own father, so i knew very early on that my first responsibility as a mother was to give my child the best father i could, with the knowledge i had at the time. i mean, i'm no nostradamus, but it was pretty clear that bastard wasn't the one. three days after i learned of my *fall*, i was spread eagle in a clinic. yeah, people, you heard that right: the girl with IF, IUIs, IVF/ICSI, and a dead baby had an abortion. i never felt sad about it- not the day it happened, not months or years later, not during my years of infertility when i had no idea i'd ever be a mother, not even now that my baby is dead. i am nothing but proud that i was a good mother to that child.
fast forward through a divorce after two years of marriage, three years of dating husband, and one year of marriage. soulmate friend had her first baby- a girl. the day after husband held her for the first time, we decided we would start trying for a baby ourselves. my cycles were still off (as usual), but i'd been pregnant, and he'd had a girl *fall* pregnant (hehe- can't help it) as well (both pregnancies ended the same way). after a year, my gyn prescribed clomid. nothing. he referred us to an RE, who performed an IUI with clomid. nothing. i started getting freaked out about the possibility of IVF (i didn't want twins- HA!), so for the next year, i went au natural. acupuncture, herbs, tinctures, charting temps and cervical nectar, LH sticks, meditations, yoga for fertility, visualizations...for a year. and that resulted in, well, nothing. i relented at that point, and we went back to the RE for IVF. long story short, we had three embryos by transfer, transferred three, and had three babies at 32 weeks. one boy, two girls, 4lbs each. NICU for three weeks to learn to feed and grow. all in all, pretty uneventful, despite doctors at every turn warning us not to get too excited; we could end up with three babies, two babies, one baby, or none, give or take countless disabilities of prematurity. but alas, my charmed life proved true to form. three perfect babies.
too bad that's not the end of it. my life with those babies the first year sucked ass. not only did i have all the logistical bullshit of caring for three newborns, i had the infertile girl's guilt for feeling like my life sucked ass with babies. i didn't enjoy them. i have virtually no good memories with them, and i question whether i just don't remember, or if there were any good moments at all. all those years trying, fantasizing, planning...gone to shit. i will always feel robbed (for what i lost) and guilty (for what they lost) about having three at once. and to top it off, i'm now a freak for life. i'm the triplet lady, forever and ever. (little did i know it was just practice for the real freak show: dead baby mom!).
fast forward through their second year, during which we bought our first home (an hour away from where we're from). it was my second year of co-existing anxiety and depression; i had gone from a successful, educated, socializing girl to a homemaking mother of three in her first home, waaaay away from home (well, far enough to keep me from a casual night out with the girls). i was all over the place. november brought the start of the holiday season, and the switch flipped. i was getting myself back together. we had decided that we wouldn't have any more kids, i started working out and losing the baby weight, and planned for my future...until the fateful morning in january when i opened the bedroom door where husband was sleeping. a gush of body odor assaulted my ultra-sensitive nose and i felt hatred for him, and in that moment, i knew i could be pregnant. two lines instantly appeared. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? i didn't want more children. i was just beginning to get my shit together! goddamn you, universe!
so, there i found myself, pregnant. there began the process of adjusting all thought, plan, and reason to the positives of another baby. i could experience labor and birth. i could experience the joys of the 1:1 mother to baby ratio. i could experience actual breastfeeding as opposed to pumping 3/4 gallon of milk a day for a year like a goddamn dairy cow. the sibling age gap seemed ideal. my thoughts about sending all three to kindergarten on the same day and finding myself alone were gone...i'd have a three year old to buffer. on the flip side, i had alot of ambivalence about all those positives; how would i deal with the guilt of giving all that 1:1 time and attachment to her and not my first three?
fast forward to her due date....
Thursday, November 1, 2007
the void
i've been saying i feel nothing, but retain a sense of being off. how long have i felt this way? have i lived for many years in a state of numb comfort?
i'm not just saying it feels like years since my baby died, although it seems decades longer than seven and a half weeks. i'm saying that i think this coping mechanism (you know, the one that masquerades as strength and courage) has been working overtime since long before i had "dead baby" on a loop.
i've also hinted at food issues. it began with anorexia at 13, continued with bingeing through my first marriage, and finally morphed into cycles of binge/diet (this last phase is still referred to as bulimia because the food restriction period after a period of bingeing takes the place of vomiting). i actually tried to throw up many times; i couldn't get it to work. i remember i went to a therapist for my eating disorder and the first thing i said to her was, "i wouldn't be here if i could get myself to throw up." addictions are maddening.
i had everything totally under control. my perfect weight was painstakingly maintained (give or take), i had a great job (well, it was prestigious but i didn't like it), i was in graduate school, had a pretty good marriage, and a very full social life. on the outside, i certainly was living the charmed life.
i'm also pretty self-reflective, and i'm no stranger to therapy. my parents are screwed up, and let me count the ways in which they negatively impacted my psyche. i understand all that, if not emotionally, at the very least intellectually.
if i've learned anything about addictions/addictive behaviors, it's that the substance/behavior is used to push down feelings. there is a void which must be filled, and the addict fills it with their substance/behavior of choice to avoid intense feelings. the *high* creates numbness.
i completely understand what those intense emotions are about this time. my baby, whom i carried for nine months, is dead. when i initially felt those horrible feelings, that total sense of loss, i felt filled up for the first time in a long, long time. it was very dark, but purposeful. it was REAL.
but now...now i feel normal again. i feel a nothingness that should be new. i mean, shouldn't it feel different than before?
if that numbness is a stage of grief, what have i been grieving all these years? what have i been stuffing down with food or lack thereof? have i been stuck, grieving some unacknowledged loss all this time?
i know that *sense* that something is missing is my baby. but the void- the scary, huge space- that's bigger than my current trauma. am i now damned to the hell of unraveling the WHOLE THING? am i going to drown in dead baby AND my past? and what is it, anyway? total deconstruction of my entire personality and how i cope with feelings of loss and rejection? although i don't like the food issues, i actually LIKE the way i deal with things.
i'm angry that i not only lost my baby, but my entire sense of self. or maybe i'm angry because i've been avoiding the real emotional work my whole life.
i'm definitely, without question, angry that someone out there is thinking, "see? everything happens for a reason..."
i'm not just saying it feels like years since my baby died, although it seems decades longer than seven and a half weeks. i'm saying that i think this coping mechanism (you know, the one that masquerades as strength and courage) has been working overtime since long before i had "dead baby" on a loop.
i've also hinted at food issues. it began with anorexia at 13, continued with bingeing through my first marriage, and finally morphed into cycles of binge/diet (this last phase is still referred to as bulimia because the food restriction period after a period of bingeing takes the place of vomiting). i actually tried to throw up many times; i couldn't get it to work. i remember i went to a therapist for my eating disorder and the first thing i said to her was, "i wouldn't be here if i could get myself to throw up." addictions are maddening.
i had everything totally under control. my perfect weight was painstakingly maintained (give or take), i had a great job (well, it was prestigious but i didn't like it), i was in graduate school, had a pretty good marriage, and a very full social life. on the outside, i certainly was living the charmed life.
i'm also pretty self-reflective, and i'm no stranger to therapy. my parents are screwed up, and let me count the ways in which they negatively impacted my psyche. i understand all that, if not emotionally, at the very least intellectually.
if i've learned anything about addictions/addictive behaviors, it's that the substance/behavior is used to push down feelings. there is a void which must be filled, and the addict fills it with their substance/behavior of choice to avoid intense feelings. the *high* creates numbness.
i completely understand what those intense emotions are about this time. my baby, whom i carried for nine months, is dead. when i initially felt those horrible feelings, that total sense of loss, i felt filled up for the first time in a long, long time. it was very dark, but purposeful. it was REAL.
but now...now i feel normal again. i feel a nothingness that should be new. i mean, shouldn't it feel different than before?
if that numbness is a stage of grief, what have i been grieving all these years? what have i been stuffing down with food or lack thereof? have i been stuck, grieving some unacknowledged loss all this time?
i know that *sense* that something is missing is my baby. but the void- the scary, huge space- that's bigger than my current trauma. am i now damned to the hell of unraveling the WHOLE THING? am i going to drown in dead baby AND my past? and what is it, anyway? total deconstruction of my entire personality and how i cope with feelings of loss and rejection? although i don't like the food issues, i actually LIKE the way i deal with things.
i'm angry that i not only lost my baby, but my entire sense of self. or maybe i'm angry because i've been avoiding the real emotional work my whole life.
i'm definitely, without question, angry that someone out there is thinking, "see? everything happens for a reason..."
Friday, October 5, 2007
my charmed life
my life isn't really charmed, it's just something my mother's always said. it always pissed me off.
i guess what it's really about for me is how large the difference is between what a life looks like from the outside, and what it feels like on the inside. on the outside, i've always been slim and attractive (hehe... feels funny to say that); in my reality, i live with compulsive overeating and other food control issues. on the outside, i have three great kids (a boy and two girls); in reality, i suffered through 4 years of heartbreaking infertility- to the point where i still read IF blogs and identify so much with them- to the point where, even at 2.5 years old, i still have a hard time believing they're my children. i've never had many relationship problems in the past, but that's because i'm kinda emotionally cold, and i guess that's attractive to men (you know, a challenge). on the outside i guess that seems charmed (especially to my mother). i say i'm just another person trying to be happy despite all that shit.
well, it's almost a month since my baby girl died and was born at full term, on her due date.
i wonder if my mother will ever talk about my charmed life again.
i guess what it's really about for me is how large the difference is between what a life looks like from the outside, and what it feels like on the inside. on the outside, i've always been slim and attractive (hehe... feels funny to say that); in my reality, i live with compulsive overeating and other food control issues. on the outside, i have three great kids (a boy and two girls); in reality, i suffered through 4 years of heartbreaking infertility- to the point where i still read IF blogs and identify so much with them- to the point where, even at 2.5 years old, i still have a hard time believing they're my children. i've never had many relationship problems in the past, but that's because i'm kinda emotionally cold, and i guess that's attractive to men (you know, a challenge). on the outside i guess that seems charmed (especially to my mother). i say i'm just another person trying to be happy despite all that shit.
well, it's almost a month since my baby girl died and was born at full term, on her due date.
i wonder if my mother will ever talk about my charmed life again.
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