I really want to meet my babies.
I don’t know how I will react when I meet my friends’ babies for the first time.
It feels like I just want to be sad and just swim in it for a while.
I think I tried to get back on track with my food too soon. I don’t want to get fatter, but I just don’t feel like it’s in me to eat or think about meals as I know I need to.
I want to eat and eat and eat but at the same time I am just so tired of food. I don’t want to eat. I want to cry.
Maybe I need to get fat. But I don’t want to.
I hate it how my stomach still looks a little bit pregnant.
Why do I feel such a need for children?
Why do people have to be assholes, even if they don’t know it?
Why can’t I just tell people what’s happened without people turning into advice – givers and fixers (aka: assholes).
Why is my happiness so genuine but also such a mask?
I ask myself why I feel so sad all the time, but I know why. I am just so overwhelmingly sad. If I don’t laugh I’ll cry, but if I’m not careful I’ll cry anyway.
If there was a word of the year it would be sad. Because there’s just no better word for it.
What people see of me and how I really feel are so different. I feel like an empty shell. I want to feel happy, without sad edges. Because there are many times when I am happy, but the sadness is always there. Like a shadow in sunshine.
I’m so glad God understands. I am so glad He can take it, and He sits with me so patiently and silently as I cry and ask the same questions I’ve asked for over a year now. I suppose some people would ask where is God in the silence? I suggest He is the silence. A comforting, enveloping silence where I can sit and accept my sadness, knowing He is right there. And He is doing exactly the right thing by not saying a word. I can sit quietly in the sunshine and watch the birds and feel the wind and know that He loves me. He gives me colours, and warmth, and thunder storms. He knows what is quietly raging in me. And He is with me, allowing me to ponder everything that has happened. He feels my sigh, and my vacant stares. My feelings of flat stillness when there are no words.