All Shared Out

There is SO much I could write about today because my brain is a mish mash of crazy makingness.  But, honestly, I just don't have the energy to share.  I am all shared-out.  The truth is that I get tired of sharing.  I like to share here and occasionally with people who are close to me or when things are especially difficult, but day in and day out, I am just over it.  It makes me tired.

I was IM'ing with a girlfriend yesterday and explaining to her how I basically just act normal all of the time and it's just that - acting.  On the inside, there is no normalness - not even my "new normal" because I am only on my way to finding what that is.  I haven't arrived at "new normal" yet...even though people have been talking to me about it since Max died.  She said it bothers her that I "act" - she thinks I should just be upfront.  Who cares what people think?  Well, I don't care what people think at all, but I do care about how people interact with me because I have to interact back with them.  I can't just run around screaming and crying about Max - that would wear me out entirely.  I don't like to just tell every Tom, Dick and Harry about Maxie either - because Maxie is special and sacred to me and he isn't just conversation with randoms in the supermarket.  I won't allow him to be.  And, you know what else?  It hurts my heart when I talk about Max and I get a cold and unfeeling response.  If he was alive and I was bragging about him, the person I was bragging to would smile and act interested, even if they weren't.

Listen, I am just all shared out.  Period.  I'd rather tell you how much I am enjoying pole dancing, Zumba and my new favorite class: Body Pump!  I'd rather tell you my thoughts about this season's bachelor (Juan day soon I will...).  I'd rather tell you how excited I am to be going out to a fancy pants dinner and then seeing "The Book of Mormon" in Hollywood tonight with my husband.  I'd rather tell you how just in the last week, I've noticed that Mo is much more of a toddler than a baby these days.

What can I say?  I'm all shared out!


Anonymous said...

Maybe that's a sign of you are slowly healing. I am not there yet. I am not as lucky as you are to have a rainbow baby to care for. I am struggling with infertility after I lost my only child. How "good" life can be!?

Abby Leviss said...

I am so sorry! How cruel and unfair for you to have to struggle with infertility after losing your only child.

Susan said...

Keep going anonymous mum - both Abby and I were there too - ttc after losing an only child - and it is truly crap. Just keep going xx

Abby - I got to this point and stopped blogging. I felt like I had nothing left I wanted to say. I also get the feeling that I just can't be bothered to explain to muggle people any more. It is too exhausting. It is worst when they respond by telling you how they think you should be feeling. It's at that point I started the bar... where I can talk rubbish to people who get it.

You are a lovely mum and Mo is a gorgeous boy. Xx