I’m like a third of the way through this thing.
By now, I expected to see progress – and I believe that I’ve made some – but what I feel, mostly, is frustration with the process. I told my therapist yesterday that I “need a new plan,” meaning not a future plan, but a current plan, a coping mechanism. Except that I don’t want to cope; I want to overcome.
This was the part where she told me that, when I start trying to explain things, she loses me. Then she told me to close my eyes and reconnect with my body, while she did the same with hers.
Eventually, I think, I was able to give her a glimpse into my world. She said, “I want to come back to this next week,” which is not how we usually end our sessions.
See, here’s the deal. I live my life right now on a day-to-day basis. I have good days and bad days, as I think has been pretty well demonstrated here: one day I seem to have everything figured out, and the next day something happens that sends me spiraling backwards. So when I say I need a new plan, I mean I need for this back-and-forth bullshit not to happen anymore.
I think what it is, is that my grief – which I cannot easily define – is always there, under the surface. I can build up protective layers of positive thoughts and experiences, but each time something reminds me of what I lost, those layers are scratched away, and the grief is revealed. What I need is a tool to make that grief go away, or shrink it, or re-file it somewhere else.
Here are some things that do not work:
- Talking about what happened. I can talk my head off, to anyone, about anything, however personal. It’s what lets me bare my soul on this blog and not really think twice about it. But when I’m just telling the same stories over and over again – all outside pregnancies being equal, just with different women in question – and the outcome doesn’t change, I realize that talking/crying/getting angry may be immediately cathartic but provides no long-term relief.
- Being grateful for what I have. I am grateful, but it isn’t enough to say that’s enough. The gratitude, the moments of happiness I get from my life as it is, are what build up those protective layers over my sadness. They do not eradicate it.
- Looking to the future. This one pisses me off because it simultaneously makes me feel like my current life is not worth anything (which is is; see above) and operates on the assumption that things will change if and when certain conditions are met, at specific dates and times. What a lot of pressure! I don’t want to feel like I’m just getting by or suffering through it, and I certainly don’t want to wake up one day a few years from now, realize that the expectations were not met, and wonder what the hell I spent all these years waiting for.
I go to therapy, I wear a talisman, I’m joining a support group, and I’m writing this blog because the resources that I have at my fingertips have failed me and continue to fail me. When I say I need a new plan, I mean I need a new set of resources, a new toolbox, a better idea than the ones I’ve already got. I would like to wake up one day and think, genuinely, as I did once upon a time, “Hey, this life is pretty great!” without having to convince myself. I would like to hear of a friend’s pregnancy and be able to congratulate her without it causing me weeks or months of inner torment. I would like to say “fuck you” to the grief that sits inside me, like I was able to say “fuck you” to the shame I felt surrounding my divorce (because that one, for those who are interested, has been processing nicely, if belatedly). And then I would like to be done with it, calling on it when necessary, for perspective or storytelling, rather than being blindsided by it on any given day.
And I am open to suggestions on how to accomplish all that, because sitting around waiting for it to happen on its own, sticking the same square pegs in the same round holes, is getting really, really old.