Sometimes I feel like the entire world is moving around me & I'm standing perfectly still just watching it fly by. Like I'm standing in the center of a tornado, motionless, completely unable to get out, break free. I feel imprisoned by my grief & anger. I carry it everywhere I go. I feel like everyone can see it. The mom in the grocery store with her newborn, I hate her & I think she can see it in my eyes. The pregnant lady down the aisle from me, I hate her for living a normal life while pregnant & she knows it. The father with his children, I hate him for having what my husband has lost & he sees my envy. The mom shouting at her children, I hate her most of all & I know she sees my judgmental stares.
Hate. I don't like that word at all, but it's a real part of my life & I can't control it no matter how much I try. I hate people I don't know. I don't even have a real reason to hate them. I don't know their story. I don't know that they haven't been through the same or worse than me. Except I do know. Or at least I think I do. When I see these other people, it doesn't seem possible that they could have endured what I have, or worse, & still be able to walk around so blissfully. If that were the case, then that would mean that kind of happiness could be in my future & that just doesn't seem like a remote possibility.
***I feel the need to clarify what I've just said as much as I can. I don't hate everyone that's pregnant or has a baby or children. I don't even know if I really hate the people I think I hate. Or if I just hate myself when I see them. I love my friends, I envy those around me. The one thing I know I hate is this empty feeling.***
I can't envision a time when I'm not always on the verge of tears just sitting in my house. A day when I don't sit in my car, in the Target parking lot, for 10 minutes before I go in, just mentally preparing myself for what awaits inside. Will there come a day that I don't try to strategically plan my errands around the times I see less likely to be bombarded by people with what I lost? A day that a nurse's casual chatter about her children won't be a knife to the heart? A day that I can truly be happy for others without the pangs of selfish desire for what they have taking over?
I used to be a happy person. I swear I was. I only have faint memories of that girl. When my friends talk about the past, it doesn't even seem like me in their stories. Sometimes I think that happy, carefree person died with my children. Will she come back if I ever get my rainbow? I get glimpses of her, here & there. Maybe she's not totally gone. How do I live without the things I need most? How do I find happiness in the meantime?