Because when I stop for a moment, I feel overwhelmed. It is a concotion of emotions that are sometimes too much to bear. So I keep moving. I keep trying to find reasons to help me get out bed in the morning, even when I feel like its the last thing I want to do.
I thought to start exercising. Even went ahead to download a number of apps and looked up a few gyms in my neighborhood. I even consulted Youtube for this. But I was cautioned against it, by my doctor and my mother. I need to give it between six to ten weeks before I can try anything harder than stretching and walking. And even then I cant push it, stand for too long and my lower back wont let me. You would think, women in this position would be exempt from this.
I however got my clean bill of health. So went back to work. I finished my first week and today I start on my second. It feels good to have that every day motivation to get up and do something. To get out of the house and just be part of the world instead of just watching it pass by from the comfort of my couch. I almost feel normal. And yet not so much when I pause.
But I still have those moments when the feelings and emotions flood in, when it feels as if I am getting dragged into a dark void of nothingness where I can barely breathe. I feel guilt and shame. So much anger as to why it had to happen to me, to us. I feel even more ashamed when I get jealous at other people and their experiences. And my body, the weight, the stretch marks, the lactating all a constant reminder. The only other alternative to all these feelings is to feel numb. I have been doing a pretty good job of escaping from my own pain by worrying and taking care of other people. I realized that I haven’t been grieving or dealing with my own hurt.
I had a job interview this past weekend. What I would almost call my ‘dream job’ because it would mean doing something I love and getting paid handsomely for it. But it got me questioning whether I was ready to handle such a responsibility. It got me questioning whether I was ready to try again for another child, or putting it off a little while longer so that I would be able to give the job my full attention. It got me questioning whether I will ever be ready to take care of an entire other human being who would rely on me for everything. I starting working for a start-up right before my disaster. I took the job mostly for the work hours, they were really flexible. And my husband being a freelancer, meant we would get to spend more time together and I would not need to get up so early or get too tired.
Well, I went for the interview. I may have absent mindedly screwed up. But I think some part of me would really love to take up the job, consequences be damned.
Speaking of whom, I know its a whole month later, but its never too late. There is a lovely piece as a tribute to grieving Fathers done by a lovely soul called Dani. My husband loved it, I think you will too, regardless of gender.
And here is my Father’s day tribute:
To my father who always wanted and did his best so we could have more than he ever had in his life, and to my fiance, who strives so hard to give his all for his family, I love you both, and I thank God for putting you both in my life.