I'm trying SO hard to move forward, move on from this mess.
But the fear is breathtaking and not in a pretty way.
I've tried to leave the house five times today but I keep thinking of excuses to stay indoors. The washing is complete. The bathroom is clean. The sheets are fresh and the laundry is put away. I seriously contemplated organising my bookcase but ate a caramel Tim Tim instead.
It's two sleeps til Santa arrives and I've got so much to buy and so much to organise. This is normally my favourite time of the year - festive celebrations, party invitations, sharing great food and fine wine with family and friends and handing out thoughtful gifts to make my loved ones smile like crazy. I crave normality so badly but 'normal' disappeared 16 days ago.
I know I'm faking it at the moment. I'm seriously pretending to be OK. My loved ones don't need to know my every thought. If I could leave the house, my first stop would be my GP for help. The trauma of this experience, this pregnancy, this loss, is enough to set me on a path of destruction. Depression has visited me before and I don't particularly want it back again. I need to know the steps to help me avoid this path ...... and try and choose a path that will be rebuild what is broken here.
But I get the sense no one can help me. No one wants to help me.
Maybe faking it is OK for the moment because our life is messy. Hubby is investing every waking minute into his new business. I'm at home alone all day. Sleep is evading us. We toss and turn and become bitter when dawn breaks. The healthy diet is replaced with too much chocolate, ice cream and cake. I cry every time I hope in the shower because the scars are a permanent reminder of what could have been.
But I can't fake it forever. Eventually I need to start digging my way out of this pit hole called 'rock bottom'.