The Morning After
I feel so much boiling within me that I’m afraid of what I could do. I have to release some of it and the healthiest way I can think to do that is to write and/or talk.
I had a long talk with Tori last night and I got a lot out, but I couldn’t express everything fully. She’s caring and sensitive and tends to take on other people’s problems over her own and I don’t want to burden her or anyone else with all of this.
I had several visitors1, calls, and texts yesterday and I am grateful for the love, comfort, and support so many people have shown me, but in some instances it made me feel worse. I can’t stand to see pity in one more person’s eyes or face.
Things that were so important to me as little as a day ago no longer matter. I’m completely enveloped with agony and no one has been able to console me, which makes me feel even worse because they are trying so hard to help me.
I’ve cycled through many feelings and emotions over the past 22-ish hours: love, confusion, panic, fear, shock, anger, hate, despair, contempt, sadness, grief, hopelessness, rage, disbelief, sorrow, guilt, shame, and many more.
Right now, I’m crying, again, because I’ve been wishing this was some terrible nightmare I could awaken from, but the reality of everything hit me and then the pain overwhelmed me again.
My eyes were (and still are) puffy and swollen most of the day and I could burst into tears within seconds over even the most minor thing, such as a song, or seeing a painting of a mother nurturing her infant, mere mention of the word “baby”, or hearing the question, “Are you ok?” for the 1000th time, or a million other things.
I have a habit of shutting off feelings when things like this happen, according to Erick, but there are too many feelings; I can’t get the door closed on them and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve had miscarriages before and logic dictates I should know how to handle them by now, but I don’t. Each one is different and had its own terrible circumstances lingering.
I have to go to work in a few hours and I honestly have no clue how I’m going to handle it. What if I’m on the phone with a customer and I just burst into tears when I hear her baby crying in the background? Or what if the image of my near empty uterus flashes through my mind again? I can’t sleep, eat, or even concentrate. I’m just this big ball of pain and the harder I try to suppress it the more it overcomes me.
- A Painful Reminder (everydayhealth.com)
- The lonely pain of miscarriage | Cathryn Scott (guardian.co.uk)
- Celeb Women Open Up About Miscarriage (abcnews.go.com)
On this day..
- Discharge and My Recovery - 2007
About BipolarChick (599 posts)
I’m a thirty-something bipolar woman, an advanced tech agent with a pay tv provider, tax preparer for a local charity, current Tulsa inhabitant, and I’m one credit shy of an Associate Degree in Liberal Arts. I’m working on recovery from self-injury and working toward stabilizing my bipolar symptoms. Recovery is very important to me. I’ve been mostly single the past few years and plagued by a seemingly never-ending series of jackasses, assholes, and married men. I have no children of my own, but I have lots of nieces and nephews I love to spoil.