Farewell 2016

Farewell 2016. You’ve had your moments, I’ve had my moments; we’ve all had our moments. There are many moments I’d love to keep and re-live, do what I can to recreate them, but that won’t happen. There are bucket loads of moments I wish I’d never had, that I don’t want to re-live, certainly don’t want to recreate and keep hoping that I’ll forget. But that’s not gonna happen either.

I’m not one to make a big deal out of New Year’s celebrations, it’s really just another night. We encounter new things every day, why we all need to wait until the New Year to change things, I don’t know. We get new days, new months, new seasons, new minutes and new seconds all year round. Why wait for the one new year, each year? I did make one comment last year, that I wanted to kiss a real live boy next new year. Unless some single cuties pop up tonight, that’s not gonna happen. And why should I wait for New Year for a kiss?

I was filled with hope and excitement for 2016; I was excited to see where things would go with Gary, what excitement I could get at work, what fun things I’d get up to in summer. For 2017, I know where things went with Gary – I know they won’t go again – I’ve just resigned from my new job and I’m not planning on being here for the full summer. I’m not filled with hope and excitement.

I’m glad for 2016 to be over, as are many others. ‘We’ lost so many celebrities and some truly crazy things happened around the world. But for me, I lost myself and my baby. While I did find myself initially and someone who I had thought to be the love of my life, 2016 will, for the most part, be remembered as the year I lost.

Things are getting easier – songs aren’t making my gut wrench or heart tighten as much anymore. I can talk about Gary without feeling complete bitterness or heartache. I can say the word miscarriage without tears forming or my voice dropping to a whisper. But there’s still a long way to go.

2016, you truly were a one of a kind year. I’m glad to see the back of you, but so desperately wish for you to come back on track and fix yourself up. Why did you have to fill yourself with so much tragedy? I’m not sure what we did – what I did – to deserve you, but 2017 better bloody well make up for it.

Here’s hoping to a Happy New Year.


Accepting my moments

So it’s been awhile. No, I haven’t slipped into a summer hibernation, no I’m not suddenly feeling better. I’m still not the best of me and I’m certainly not even close to my normal me. After my sick day, the doctor I saw recommended I touch base with my usual GP and also see my psychologist again.

We did briefly talk about going on medication. I’m not keen on it – I don’t want to be reliant on anything. I also feel that what I’m going through is small fry – inconsequential to so many others and really not in need of medication. While he didn’t change my mind and didn’t prescribe me anything, he did say that going on meds isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The overall message I’ve taken away is that when an organ is unwell, you take something to help it get better. Well, the brain is an organ, and right now, with me not being me, it isn’t in the best shape.

I said I’d discuss with my GP and I haven’t shied away from it. When I saw her, we brought it up. I said that I have up moments and down moments, and then my eyes filled up. I can’t get away from them. I told her my plans to travel and hoped that would help; she said to monitor over the next month and see how it goes. So I’m back to see her in a couple of weeks.

Chatting with my psychologist last week, I was in a slightly up mood; not the highest I’ve been, but certainly not in a bad moment. Seems quite typical really, make appointments when at the moment, I don’t quite need them. But we did cut through and again, my eyes filled up. Seems I have some anger towards mum and dad.

For my birthday, I’d told Manda that I was fine not seeing my family, but I wanted at least a card and perhaps some flowers. I got neither. Emma rang me twice so I was able to speak to all the kiddies, Donna rang once and I got a Facebook message and video from mum and dad. That was my birthday acknowledgement from immediate family.

Mel took me out for dinner and told me that I expect too much. Which I’ve realised that I do. I expect others to put in the effort I put in with them, but I don’t ask for it. Especially with family, I expect they should just know, be mindful of the effort I would extend and return the favour I’d shown them. Of course I wasn’t going to get flowers – I hadn’t asked and I’ve not got them before. Just because they were on the other side of the country didn’t suddenly mean they’d do something out of the ordinary. But still, it hurt.

We had our family Christmas party the weekend before Christmas. It was the first time I’d be seeing my aunts and cousins since I’d announced my engagement. They all know what has happened, mum saw to that. I did need a moment however. My cousin has just announced her pregnancy, she’s about 14-16 weeks now I think. Mum had told me so it wasn’t a shock to see her little bump, but it hurt. We gave each other a Merry Christmas and I added a ‘congratulations’, but it seemed to make her uncomfortable. She kind of shrugged it off and we didn’t speak again for the day. I don’t want her to be hiding her news from me, I want her to be happy and excited for what she’s going through. But I also really want that for me.

So I took my moment during the day and Aunty Joan caught me. She gave me a cuddle and told me it was okay to be sad at times, but not be sad all the time. I appreciated the gesture and that she was there for a cuddle – I’d been sitting alone with my sunglasses on. She told Uncle Mick, as when we were saying our byes, he gave me an extra hug and tight squeeze. From this, I’m annoyed that it was Aunty Joan and Uncle Mick who saw what I needed. Not my own mother and father.

Fiona asked me what I’m doing to self-soothe when I get upset and have my moments. I’d not really been doing anything. I get frustrated with myself for having a moment and crying. I did hug a cushion the day before the party, so I told her that. She told me I need to do more and not get angry with myself.

I feel additionally annoyed with myself as it’s now been five months since the miscarriage and I was only pregnant for such a short time. She pointed out that it’s not the duration of the event, it’s the significance that it holds. Being pregnant and engaged is pretty significant. Even if just for a short while, they are extremely significant. And having a moment, needing to cry, they’re just letting the emotions come out and clear. I shouldn’t be angry with them, or me, but rather allow the moments to come and wait for them to pass, which they will.

I went home for Christmas and had a moment getting my things together. I ended up on my bed, hugging my teddy bears. I ended up packing them both – they would be my soothers. I did use them before going to sleep Christmas Eve – I fell asleep with tears down my cheeks and Ted and Simba clasped tightly in my arms. Since coming home, I’ve been waiting for more moments and almost had one this morning. Instead of getting annoyed, I told myself it was fine. The emotions need to come out and it was normal and natural. I reminded myself I had my bed and Ted and Simba. The moment passed and my eyes remained dry.

I know things will get better and I have a long way to go. But if I accept my moments, learn to soothe myself and let them happen, they’ll be shorter and slightly more bearable. I won’t keep getting frustrated with myself.

I’ve still got issues to work through and so many plans to make, but for now, I survived Christmas and my birthday. They’re the worst, surely things can only get better from here?

Getting the best of me

I’m letting it get the best of me. I’m on the verge of giving up and just letting the depression take me over. I have good moments and low moments and downright miserable moments. I’ve let the miserable take me over today. This morning I was woken by the blinds tapping against a window and it did my head in. I got up and shut the window, and of course, minutes later my alarm went off. I snoozed my pre-set three times, then ended up just setting my timer for an additional 30 minutes.

I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up and facing the day. My head hurt, my belly ached and my mind wouldn’t shut down. I made a doctor’s appointment and made the call to tell work I wouldn’t be in today. The appointment with a doctor is wasteful, I just need a medical certificate so I can redeem sick leave. I know what’s wrong with me; I’m just too weak to overcome it today.

Mel and Alison came round for drinks Saturday night. We had no firm plans, other than have a couple and see what happened. We ended up drinking more than expected and stayed in. Mel got my phone again (okay – I handed it to her) and she got onto Tinder. Alison was curious how it worked, so we had a laugh. I had a like and a super like, but I’ve not followed up. I’m not in that space anymore, and the effort required is just non-existent right now.

This week marks my birthday, the anniversary of the night I met Gary and also my work Christmas party. I have no plans for my birthday apart from going to work. The idea of spending my birthday alone is really breaking my heart. I want someone to make me feel special, to show me that I am worth it, and worthy.

When I caught up with Manda and Jules last weekend, I told Manda that I had initially been planning to go to NZ to see what happened with Gary, but I was now thinking against it. She didn’t hold back and told me that he was all about him and that I was worth so much more. I deserved someone who would treat me well and be about me and for me. She did hit the mark though when she said that she knows I haven’t had much in the way of relationships, so clinging to this one isn’t good for me.

That’s the truth. I’m scared that there isn’t anyone else out there for me. As much as I know in my head that he isn’t right for me, I’ve not had much luck otherwise. He came up again this weekend with Mel and Alison. There’s no holding back by anyone now – my friends do not like him. I still want to protect him of sorts. I need to stop that as it is holding me back and stopping me from being happy.

He liked an old Facebook picture of mine – one from almost four years ago. I felt some of the power come back. Mel and I messaged him Saturday night – against my better sober judgment. I asked him 10 questions, not sure if he’d respond to them all. Oddly enough, he did. I asked why he was Facebook stalking me to which he said that he was wondering if he’d made a mistake. I also asked him if he wanted me to go to NZ. He said no.

I have asked him to elaborate on the NZ answer – I said it was harsh. But I don’t feel terrible about it – it has been increasingly obvious that he didn’t want me to go. I’d already decided I’m going to Asia anyway. I did tell him that he did make a mistake, but he needs to learn from it. So he’s again contradictory. He wonders if he made a mistake but also doesn’t want me to go. My head knows what is right and that he is not it, but my heart still has that soft spot.

Life, while not especially hopeful at the moment, will go on. I may not feel worthy or worthwhile at the moment but I do need to have my time outs. Today is one of those. Today can take away the best of me but I’ll bring it back. Not likely this week, or even this month. But I’ll get it back. I’ll be the best of me soon enough. I have to be.

I’ll get the best of me.

December’s lack of hibernation

It seems that I won’t be hibernating for December. My hope to fall asleep on 30 November and wake up on 02 January hasn’t happened. I fell asleep last night and when I woke up this morning it was 01 December. Best keep trying I guess.

I’m trying to make myself feel better, but I honestly can’t recall a time when I haven’t looked forward to December and all it had to offer; the start of summer, my birthday being a week away and then Christmas shortly after. I’m not even putting up my Christmas tree this year. I think I’ll even be spending my birthday evening alone.

I went home a couple of weekends ago to visit mum and dad and see my sister and the kids. I got there and dad comments how it’s been such a long time since we’ve seen each other. It had been awhile, about two months I think. I told him that it was a two-way road. He agreed, but said they never go that way. I again repeated it was a two-way road.

It’s frustrated me since. It is a bloody two-way road – you can travel in both directions at all times, not just to get me there and then come back. Coincidentally that was also the weekend before they were going away for a cruise. I asked when they were back, and mum told me it was 11 December, and I mentioned that it was after my birthday. Mum simply said yes, but we probably wouldn’t see you on your birthday anyway.

I love birthdays and celebrations, and while I don’t think we would have done anything on my birthday, it was just the delivery of the comment that they probably wouldn’t see me anyway. Thanks so much – glad to have some sort of an effort made.

Add to that and I’m told that our extended family Christmas actually won’t be held at mum and dad’s this year even though it’s their turn. My sisters aren’t talking to each other – yes, it’s extremely awkward and difficult for all of us. But to use that as a reason for not wanting to hold a family Christmas, make the decision and not discuss it with any of us and just spring of us that it’s near Aunty Pat’s this year, it’s all a bit much.

I just don’t have a lot to look forward to this December. I’m not asking for or seeking pity from anyone, I well and truly know there are worse out there than me and have much more substantial things to worry about. But this isn’t me. My Facebook memories are coming up each day, and it seems that every year I’m counting down the sleeps to my birthday, sharing pictures of my Christmas tree, enjoying the greatest month of them all. And this December, I’m not.

I feel I’ve gone backwards about my miscarriage. Babies and baby bumps are aching my insides again. It was so good to see Jules last weekend, but seeing her gorgeous little Jack, it killed me. I used to work with another Laura, and she announced her pregnancy around about when I should have. She just posted her 27-week bump picture; she looks stunning and I am immensely jealous. I want to be sharing baby bump pics, buying baby items and having things under the Christmas tree for the little human growing inside me.

Writing the letter to my baby helped me; I felt some sense of closure. Not acceptance, but closure and limited understanding, knowing that perhaps it was for the best. But coming into such a significant month, the wounds are reopening and the aches are coming back.

The idea of hibernating for December is still immensely appealing, but I also know it’s not a reality. Looks like I’ll just have to continue sucking it up and start some serious planning for my great escape.