I was listening to the song ‘So Close’ by Jon McLaughlin again last night. I first really listened to this song when trying to recover from my first miscarriage and everything that followed that experience. In a way it has become my song for such events. There is a part of the song that captures the loss of the experience:
“We’re so close to reaching
that famous happy end,
And almost believing,
this one’s not pretend.
Let’s go on dreaming
for we know we are…
so close, so close
and still so far…”
2016 seems to be summarised by that verse, “so close and still so far…” I was so close to having a pregnancy without medication, so close to actually realising the plan of stopping my anti-depressants, so close to moving on with our dream for a larger family, so close and then I was so, so very far. I was “almost believing, this one’s not pretend” and then my world changed, that dream ended.
I thought perhaps that the grieving was over for the most part, but this process has dragged on and on and then on some more. And it goes on a little more today. The physical pain has made a huge difference to my mental health, making things a real strain and just after I was so close to having moved on from The Darkness and it’s grip; it found me and once again I was so far from where I was. And that in itself is hugely frustrating because it took such a very long time to reach that place. And now I’ve slipped back into the dual personas – the me at work, sometimes at home and out and about, and the me, underneath. I protect the latter me because it is small, it is hurting, it is vulnerable. Mostly it stays hidden but some days it is too hard and exhausting to be the ‘happy girl’ when I feel the polar opposite. Today is a hide away and retreat day because I can’t do anything more.
I am tentatively scheduled for a laparoscopy tomorrow to investigate why I am still in pain. Apparently, the ectopic should have resolved by now. This does not digest well in my head, part of which is convinced I’m a lunatic with some kind of psychosomatic pain symptoms. I hate the Dark Side of my head. Sometimes, when I am mentally better, it becomes a small atom, and is discreet and tiny, but it has the ability to grow into an entire galaxy all by itself and at light speed. It is like The Darkness has it’s own operating system in my head, which it activates at will (it’s own will, not mine).
I say I am tentatively scheduled, because I am wondering whether this will be another 2016 “so close…so far” things. I came down with laryngitis and a slightly productive cough last week. So I did not exactly ace the pre-operative assessment. Fortunately, my blood work was in my favour (thank you white blood cells) and I still maintain that hopefully the fever was due to my thermals and the warmth of the hospital. Although I may have had a fever in the week, I just didn’t check it to confirm it or not. So after the nurses call on Friday, I was given the weekend to get better. So I have had to forgo my run and rest, rest, rest, in the hope my body can do it’s thing and I will get the surgery. There is a high possibility that I will turn up at the hospital on Monday to be sent right on home again. So close and yet so far.
The only good thing is that the pain has subsided a lot this week and I am on much less painkillers, which is good. So maybe the ectopic is on is way out. But there is still pain and maybe the laparoscopy will just finalise things so I can move on? It has been tough weekend for my head. Despite the fact that overall, it has been a brighter week, The Darkness has had it’s spotlight. On Tuesday, I felt so low and tired, that I couldn’t maintain my protective borders. After seeing my GP before work, I let my husband read my thoughts at those Dark Times and left my head metaphorically with him, whilst I went to work. It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing, because my personal even now remains highly contained and protected. But it was a window and I decided to let him in, for a little bit. I’m not real sure where he is now though? He is staying away, because I am most likely snappy, but I feel invisible to him. I don’t know what to say to him, he doesn’t know what to say back and so neither of us say anything. There is just an unacknowledged silence between us, the wedge of The Darkness. I’m glad I’ve had the cats to snuggle with at night time and reach for.
I was aware in the week, my head was doing a hell of a lot of blocking regarding the laparoscopy, because I don’t really know how to cope with it. This should have been over by now, that’s what all the medics are saying. Why isn’t it over? What is wrong with me? Why is my head so screwed up? What if they do find nothing and it’s all in my head? And the Thought Train begins to run it’s endless circuits, it has no stations, only a final conclusion of a destination; save my son from me, protect him from my crazy. Just another day when I withdraw because it’s the only way I can cope and get through. But it’s lonely here and the world is so very small and dark and cold, the only other inhabitants being Desolation and Sadness, for the most part you feel nothing though. I might as well be living on the moon, because I do not feel part of this planet at all.