Saturday, 18 February 2012

I just feel so alone

"Look, to be honest, I'm not ok, even when I say I am.  Please don't call me strong, and that you couldn't cope in my shoes.  It makes me feel like you think I don't love my kid as much as you love yours.  And please don't stop being there for me.  It's still really hard, and I'm struggling."

I almost posted this on my facebook page.  But I felt too guilty.  But it's all true.

This last week has been really hard.  Now that G has gone back to work, X is at school, all my friends have started their sports and hobbies for the new year, and here I am; all alone.  I know there are people around me.  And I really appreciate the people who are supporting me.  But I feel as though it's almost to the time where people are starting to think; 'When is she going to be ok again?'.  The more I get this impression, the less I talk about Poppy and my grief and the more lonely and isolated I feel.

It's not just that I am physically alone most days.  I feel isolated within myself.  Like I've got an invisable glass screen around me.  Sometimes it keeps people out (like when someone says, "You're young, you can have another one," like Poppy was some sort of a practice run), but more and more often it is keeping the real me in.  Like when someone asks how I am, and I say, "Good thanks, and you?" when what I really want to say, "I feel like shit, what do you think?".  Hardly good manners to swear in someones face though, my Dad would be mortified...

And this barrier has caused a whole new problem.  People don't speak their condolences anymore.  They just ask expected the usual answer.  So I keep saying I'm fine and people are believing it.  So I reinforce my own aloneness.  This clear case has become my protection and my prison, and I hate it.  But I can't get out, because I still need it.  Stuck between a rock and a hard place.  Or a glass box and the black hole I might sink into if I don't have my armour on when I venture out into the world.

I don't know how to fix this problem.  I like to fix things, find solutions, make things better.  I cope best when I know I am in control and can get the solution I want.  But there is no solution to this.  Poppy grew inside of my, was born and now she's gone.  And I'm broken.  But I can't be fixed.  I've patched myself up the best that I can; a bit of cellotape, rather a lot of glue and some laquer to prevent the biggest bits falling off, but it's the best I can do.  That barrier around me is holding me together.

I just want someone to make it all go away.  I want to be happy again with my beautiful boy and my hubby.  Not feeling like someone is missing all the time.  But that would mean I'd never had Poppy.  To be honest, sometimes I almost wish it hadn't happened. But that is so unfair to her.  I love her.  I miss her.  I felt her living.  But I wish she were here, instead of the puzzle peice in our family that been lost.  Why did God let her grow in me only to take her away?  But that starts a whole other internal conflict, so I'll leave that one alone for now.  I can't believe that this was what her life was meant to mean.  Pain and sorrow, instead of joy eternal.

I think I need some support. I have great online support (you guys know who you are) but I think I need to talk to people face to face.  Because sadly, I'm not alone.  Too many others have suffered through what I am suffering.  Maybe I'm ready now to sit down with some and talk about how to get by.  How to keep going when you think you've reached breaking point.  I have a flyer on the fridge for one such support group, and I'll ring the number and go.

Because I can't live in this isolation booth forever.  It's getting a bit grotty in here, and I reckon the glue will dry better in the fresh air anyway.


  1. Thanks for reading this very 'woe is me' post. I have a lot to be thankful for, I know that, and I can be happy sometimes. I am just slowly coming to terms with what my life is now, and with the shattered illusion that I was doing ok. Thank you, again, for your offers of support. Please know that I know you care. xxx

  2. Dear Bec,

    You are not alone. You are not abnormal.
    You are so brave, to manage to GET X to school and smile and say hello when you are so grief-stricken. It is what parents do, even when the the zombie stage of grief. You just somehow manage to keep one foot in front of the other to do the things you have to do. I DON'T know how you do it, but I feel for all of you. I know WHY you do it - to provide a quality of life that you want for your son, when all you really want to do is curl up and cry and withdraw from this cruel situation.
    There is no set date when you will start to feel better. When the grief and rage are not all-consuming. How you feel is how you feel and you describe it so heart-breakingly well.
    When I see you I want to make you smile, and it doesn't seem the place to bring you undone, talking about Poppy's unfair death. But every time I see one of your posts, I feel I should be able to do something.
    You are an amazing person, but of course you are shattered, of course you feel out of control and fearful of how you can continue to function. But you will do it Bec, and I hope joining a support group is just what you need right now. You are doing more than okay, it is just that you have such a hard road to go still. We are all thinking of you, and I hope our thoughts do give you that little bit more strength that you need to take that next step.
    What you are feeling is normal. Totally crap to experience, but still normal.

    best wishes


    1. Thanks Deb x
      This means something. This is how you all help me. And I appreciate it so much. I just wish I knew how to be. It's hard, but I'll get there. I do take strength from the knowledge that people care and are there if I need them. Time will not heal me, but I hope I'll get better at coping.
      Thanks Deb x