Sometimes I want to join a cult.  Maybe not the kind where we wear matching tennis shoes and drink kool aid...more the kind where we just blindly follow some guru and that takes up the whole day and then we do it again the next day.  I want to be part of something where I can forget who I was.  I want to forget the happy me, the me who had a little boy, the me whose life was torn to shreds, the me who thought anything was possible.  I want to just eat weird foods and stop texting and sing songs I've never heard and maybe do this with a bunch of other people whose lives have also been torn to pieces.  I hate being in the normal world, where people are worried that they might be late to their waxing appointment, or they stay up all night stressing out about yoga poses, or feel hurt because their neighbors forgot their birthday, or they care too much what their partners watch on television.  The normal world seems like complete nonsense to nonsensical in fact that it makes me want to jump feet first into the nonsense world.  I can't find a nonsense world that makes enough sense to me though...does that make sense?  Nothing is weird or out there enough for me.  There is nothing that can help me to understand why my little peanut's life had to end.  There is nothing to help me make sense of all of this nonsense.  And I am searching!  Believe me!  Ted and I are constantly rewriting our plans to run away.  The current plans include running a bed and breakfast in Costa Rica.  Ted picks people up at the airport and bartends.  I am the bookkeeper.  Where is the nonsense in that plan though?  How can I live in paradise when my insides are being torn out of my body with every breath I take?  Seems like most of the people I encounter who are as lost as me are just lost though.  They didn't suffer some tragic accident.  They didn't lose their most beloved.  They are just confused and searching for meaning.  I don't relate to them either sadly. I'm mostly thinking, "Why are you so confused?  Just get on with it already".  I'm not incredibly compassionate these days.  I'm not really going anywhere with all of this.  Just expressing how I feel today (and most days).  Lost, confused, heartbroken, alone, restless, sad, sick, dismayed, distraught, distrustful.  

1 comment

Ántonia Shimerda said...

We are also planning our escape. Our current one includes homeschooling our oldest (his separation anxiety is horrible-no idea how he will go to school next year) and buying an RV to travel around the country. I actually think the B&B in Costa Rica sounds nice.

My compassion is at an all time low as well. I should have 3 living children, I have 2. The other day someone posted on FB (she'd just had a baby) and wrote, "I have 3 children now...I'm doomed, DOOMED!" I wrote back and said, "You're just blessed!" which is a far cry from what I wanted to say. Or, to my friend that posted a picture of her infant wearing an outfit that said, "All Mommy wants is a Silent Night." Yeah, not if ALL her nights were silent after not being so. (Plus, that's the song we played at our son's funeral.)

Compassion? Not much. Anger? You bet!

I like your rambles. I write for a living and am usually pretty eloquent. When it comes to my grief, though, I like to pour it all out there. Sometimes there's a point, sometimes not.

(Loving Maxie's little bottom in your picture up there. Things I miss are chubby baby legs, squeezable cheeks, and big ole grins.)