As everyone knows, or should know by now, it's been a tough week for me. If you've followed my blog or even my story (social media, news, etc) in any capacity then you know the ups and downs I have continued to fumble through during this tumultuous journey. My most recent fall being the loss of what was believed to be a 17 week pregnancy with another baby girl, Liora Jeanne. I wrote about this loss the same weekend it occurred and I am writing now, in the hopes of releasing emotions and ridding myself of unwanted energy.
The last week or so has been such a whirlwind for me. I've consistently had someone physically at my house or with me at all times. My sadness and despair have been ever present and lurking in the background, but I've been kept busy by the people in my life. Of course, this is such a positive during such a dark time. It has kind of halted the process of grief and an emotional blow up. It has been healing in so many ways, but also hindering. If that makes sense. I think, if I can get this out properly, I will be able to explain throughout this entry what I mean when I say this.
Let me start by saying that grief has many stages. So many. And it is always handmade for each individual. It is so unique to every person, that there are absolutely no guidelines to get you through. Because you will always stray from what you've been told. Trust me. What I will also say is that this is completely okay. You are never wrong in how you feel each moment. Each second. Grief is so fluid and changing.
So, how do I handle my grief? Most loaded question of the Century. I don't. Honestly. I ignore it for a bit, I drink massive amounts of alcohol, I treat my body like absolute shit. I lean on others for as long as I can. You see, the first time around, I always had Taj. This time I don't. But I have had support and people here. People for me to act terribly with and people who distract me enough for me to avoid what's brewing on my insides.
My older sister, Kristara, came to visit me this passed Thursday. I've only just found her this year and we met one other time, briefly, in person. But she figured out a way to fly down to Florida from Michigan and be with me. And these past few days have been incredible. I've been able to avoid breakdowns and connect with someone I feel that I was always meant to connect with. We spent nights laughing, so hard that you wouldn't believe. We spent so much time just talking. We saw a psychic. We just existed together and we thrived off of this sisterly connection. But then it had to end. After over a week of me having a consistent companion, I had to wake up today and face that I was going to leave her at the airport and come home to my animals and my grief. My grief that I had become so accustomed to ignoring. I remember the pain I felt when I woke up from my accident. The pain I battled recklessly for over 2 years after waking up from that. I don't want to feel that again. And being alone means facing those feelings and fears again.
So I am writing this now, my sister already in flight, to attempt to get my emotions out. The dust has settled and the air doesn't look any clearer. I can feel the weight of this second loss starting to burden me. I knew I would have to have my time alone, my time to really process, but I don't think I could have ever felt ready for it. The loneliness of this is almost too familiar and so much more than any one person should have to bear. What do I do now? Do I cry? Do I scream? Do I write and read and focus on whatever things I can grasp? I honestly don't know. I know that while I grieved the loss of Lena I went through a phase of ignoring. But I also know that I spent SO MUCH time sitting by myself and really thinking about everything. And I did what I could to process. But this time around it feels so different. The loss is significant, but the true hurt comes from the loss you cannot see. The hope that was snuffed out. The 'what if' becomes what now? The analyzing of how I could ever feel so sure or so secure in a happy moment comes to the forefront, dragging with it the memories of all I've had to suffer already. I've gone through every scenario in my head. Am I cursed? Was I not meant to have children? Am I fighting for nothing? And as I sit at home alone, writing this blog, I feel just how inexplicably tired I really am. People think that hope is an easy thing and it isn't. Hope takes energy. Lots of it. And as I sit here, with no one to distract me, I wonder what the fuck I am going to do. I can move through the motions and schedule appointments and push. But what am I REALLY going to do. I will have to endure this roller coaster of grief again and hope to come out on top. Gather my strength and push it forward so that I can continue placing one foot in front of the other. And cry. A lot. Cry until it hurts and remember to breath again.
So, how do I deal with grief? I don't. I don't "deal", I survive. I have tools (aka people who love me) and when I have used my tools I just get through. I do all of the shitty things you shouldn't do. But you know what? I'm still breathing and my heart is still beating whether I remember to care for myself or not. And eventually, like a timer, I will get up and look around and bulldoze forward. For now, I will embrace what I can, in these lonely moments. So I light my sage and palo santo, my incense, I organize my crystals; and I pray.
I hope this makes sense in some way for those reading, I feel like a sloppy mess of a writer today but I needed to write. Love you guys for reading.