Some things seem to have together this morning. It’s really quite amazing to feel—I don’t know how long it will last. I imagine more grief will rise up and devastate me. It usually does.
I have a bit of a memory last night: It is quite astonishingly terrible, but it’s not a total surprise. It has fragments in it of things I had remembered before and not really known, so it gave me something to put those fragments inside.
But it helps me to understand my quandary at the moment, which seems to be this immense, unmoveable fatigue.
It’s a memory of what happened after Nata died, after I left the girls, and before my miscarriage. So, when I thought there would be a baby to protect and still this burning need to live despite the grief. Then, of course, there was no baby. The baby died and everything was seemingly for nothing.
It makes me realize the difficult of it all, the unending trauma and horror and the feelings to manage while trying to manage daily life. And it’s as though, now, every time things get difficult, that set of memories gets triggered, and I get the same gut-slamming fatigue along with the sense that all of this will be for naught also.
Just now, things are difficult. Not just because there is a bit more work to do, but because fighting the grief to stay engaged with the good things in the present is really, really terrible. And it could come to naught to also.
On the one hand, I’ve started living for a sense of aliveness inside. That’s starting to be the purpose for living. At the same time, I feel worthless at times: I get flashbacks of the worthlessness of being so badly used. How is the sense of aliveness going to be worthwhile if the person experiencing that aliveness is both worthless and too busy feeling worthless to get any sense of aliveness anyway? I’ve started living for the sense of aliveness other people give me: C is a big smashing light of aliveness, but it comes in other ways also, with other people. What if that is all kind of a fantasy of mine? It feels fantastic: I realize, though, that the unbelievability of it is just that the pain of feeling it will all end badly gets too much and I start dissociating. I mean, it feels unreal because it all gets too painful. It’s a coping strategy: it’s not necessarily the truth.
I start to think it is worth it.
C was wearing red sandals on Saturday at dance practice. They were somehow just charming and lovely. They set off a huge spark of happiness inside me. Whatever happens, there will be red sandals in the future. She won’t disappear. She isn’t going to die, very likely. And there is bound to be enough of a relationship that she will be around. And she will do red sandal-ly things.
I started to feel sure about this. It is enough to get me through the hard times, this hope. It changes the whole day for me.