I was going to go through the hundreds of things I have written over the past couple of years and post something from that. That is the nice thing about when you are consistently trying to do a “regular” thing (ie. every Tuesday) and you are busy.  That was not my excuse today. Today I just don’t want to. Frankly, I don’t want to much these past few days. Then I figured, what is the point of being raw and honest if you don’t.  So here I am.

It probably started going down hill more so a week ago. I bought a new car. That should be great, right?  It is. It was. Raffi and I go to Bend often, it is my home away from home, one of my peaceful places full of love and support.  Last winter, there were several white knuckle trips that I swore I would have an AWD before this upcoming season. I am neurotic about Raffi’s safety now for obvious reasons. I realized as I was cleaning out the old car though, this was one of the last “day to day” things I was letting go of that Bells was apart of. I remember her in that car just as clearly now as when she was last in it. Over the past two plus years I have found evidence of that presence, usually falling apart each time. I kept her little red sock and her christmas sweater (that she wore all year) in there. Her sock still to this day smells like her. You hold on, hold on to what you need to after a loss, especially the loss of your child (I have boxes upon boxes downstairs of her stuff). But some things, like a car, you may need to let go of. I go in thinking I am fine to do these things, without those kinds of thoughts, then it comes slamming into me. Wait. You can’t have this car?  My daughter was in it. She dropped endless lunches on the seats, sang along with me to Bon Jovi, laughed as we went careening through big puddles, asked me to make the “car fart” going over the bumps on the side of the road.  I won’t have that now, I won’t look in the back seat of this new one and see her there like I did with this one. I won’t find a wrapper of a lollipop and a dried flower stuffed inside of her water cup holder that must have fallen under the seat when removing her car seat after she died. I won’t find a decapitated polly pocket. I put the red sock back in…

This past Saturday was the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention Out of Darkness Walk.  This is the third I have done. I chatted with my friends the whole time about anything other than why we were there.  I realize that now. It amazes me how my mind just “avoids” things on an unconscious level. It was a lovely walk, rain threatening but holding off until we were done. People are there for the reason the walk exists, because they have been affected by suicide in one way or another. In past years, the shear presence of that fact alone has moved me to tears. I believe my subconscious did not want to deal (as it has learned efficiently) and deflected. I was fine. For reals. Until I was not several hours later, again when I slammed into what seemed like a brick wall and my breath was taken away from me. I was glad that I had a Timbers game viewing to go to and that I would have support there. Another distraction.

The next day as these feelings were stirring inside, I ran ten miles in the rain. Nothing like doing that to move energy and exhausting me so I can’t think.  Then Raffi came home and we went to the Thorns playoff game.  Yes, I like soccer. I fell in love last year and weirdly have found it to be one of my few joys, and damn, you hold on to those as tight as you can, because they are few and far between.  Anyways, soccer game, then time with friends for dinner.

So I should not be surprised when yesterday I awoke and my gears were off to the rest of the worlds gears. Bad. You cannot escape your emotions. Let me repeat that.  You cannot escape your emotions. I mean you can. You can use things to dull them, but they still stir much like the hurricane that is churning up the coast right now. At times calmer than others, at times brutal and unmerciful to any in its path. I had a light day at work thankfully. I even rescheduled my last to later in the week.  I just couldn’t anymore. Tears threatened to spill over, my knees threatened to give way. Raffi asked when I was coming home and I said now, I don’t feel good. I came home and put on my pjs, turned on the fireplace and started reading my novel. I did cook something, I attempted to parent. I survived the evening even though this storm was in full force inside.

I have to say I hate it.  There are few things in my life I full force “hate.”  This is one of them. I hate feeling helpless to these feelings. I have my coping strategies, but at the end of the day, I have learned that they will show up whenever and wherever they damn well please thank you very much.

Today was a little better. Not much, but a little better. It did not start that way.  I awoke early to a dream, reminding me of something I needed to do, something I had to let go of that I did not want to, but for the sake of heart health, I needed to. It then started me thinking, and the feelings started churning again. The weight of the sadness descended before the sun even rose. I dozed on and off and when it was time to wake up, I just laid there. Staring at the paintings in my room, the one representing the child we lost, and the one we got before Bells was born to celebrate her birth. The weight got heavier, I just wanted to stay under the covers all day.  I heard Raffi feeding the dog and getting breakfast ready. I knew I needed to get up. I knew I “should” run because it would make me feel better.  I just didn’t want to. But I did. I did all those things. Fighting my own self along the way. Cursing the whole time. I am glad I ran. It never ceases to amaze me how it changes the chemicals around in my brain for the better. Always. I am glad I pushed through. I am glad I have enough experience of these shitty feelings to know that if I keep pushing, keep fighting, it will get a smidge better, a little bit at a time.

Handmade hat from when she was born and that christmas sweater she wore all year

Little red sock – I put it in the same place I had originally found it in the old car