I want to write so badly, I want to share how crazy and neurotic I feel. I want to write about the depth of pain and love and sadness and happiness I am going through, yet I can't.
It seems that writing about my grief was easy, didn't care what people thought. My only goal was to get people to understand the pain as best they could. Yet now? I feel judged, I feel alone.
Am I really judged and alone? Probably not, but it feels that way. I love Amanda so very much and I'm so tired of looking at her and not seeing her. I look for what is wrong with her. Something has to be wrong with her and I have to find it. I have to find it before I have to hold another dead child in my arms. I inspect the soft spot, I inspect her face, I inspect her breathing. Her breathing, always with a hand on her chest...
I can't let the fear go. My husband has been wonderful and understanding but I think he may soon start getting angry with me. Doesn't understand why I can't realize that Megan's death was a fluke. It won't happen again. These things don't happen over and over. I need to be positive. The stress of worrying is doing nothing for my mental help. On and on and on.
If it were only that easy. If I could turn off the switch that remembers holding my dead daughter in my arms. If I could turn off the switch that remembers finding her lifeless. Lifeless on my watch.
I made this choice. I made the choice to go through this again because holding a baby is healing. Its just not healing me quick enough? I'm not depressed. I'm just scared and becoming a bit obsessive. Waiting for this bit of happiness to be taken from me.
Holding her in my arms, its one of the best feelings in the world. Its indescribable. She brings so much more joy in our lives. I just wish I could get away from this anxious feeling. I just don't want her to leave me to. I almost wish I could say I was depressed so I could go on medicine. I'm just scared and anxious and a worrywart times 10.
I think the main reason I don't want to write is because I want to write about my fears, I want to write about how neurotic I feel. This isn't my 24/7 life though and whenever I write about it, I can't stop thinking about what others might think of me. I hate that. My release has been in writing and I have never been one to write in sunshine and rainbow talk. I like to get down and dirty, to share my innermost thoughts without shame or guilt. Now I feel like I'm censoring, If i say this, maybe they won't think I need "to talk to someone" or "need happy pills". I guess I always think that the happiness is just implied ...of course its there. Of course I'm not running around like a mad person never letting Amanda sleep. I clean the house with her sleeping alone in my bedroom for goodness sakes. The last place I thought I would be able to let her sleep alone. I live life, I'm no longer just a functioning robot getting things done.
Why can't I stop thinking that everyone no longer cares how hard it is for me sometimes. Why can't I stop thinking that everyone else thinks she was my cure all so I should be all better? Seems like most of my friends that have taken this step .. they all seem so normal. No neuroses lol. Just happy go lucky baby posts. Where is the fear?
