I guess this’s how I’m working through it

I’m not sure that I quite understand sadness …or rather, what to do with so much of it. I know that for so long I dealt with it angrily. And as hard as I try to handle it maturely now, when sadness completely overwhelms me I will still sometimes resort to a tiny temper tantrum of rage. A door slam. A scream. A kick maybe.I remember when I was young, in those teen angst years, I allowed myself to cry. To dramatically scribble and scratch everything down in a journal and sob for hours on my bed listening to Tori Amos& pouring emotion out until I fell asleep and woke up the next morning refreshed as if nothing had happened. I remember my mom once telling me that she was afraid to cry and I confidently advised her to just do it. A good cry is like a hard rain, I used to say, it washes all the dirt away.But somewhere along the way I lost that outlet and never found a replacement. And now, as a woman in my 30’s {and maybe much like my mom} instead of releasing sadness, a cry seems to evoke fearful thoughts. What’s wrong with me? Am I going to cry forever? Am I depressed? Am I CRAZY?! OHMYGOD! What’s WRONG WITH ME!? I judge the process and when I suppress the tears, panic & anxiety rise.

I tried to think back to my itty bitty childhood …to the first thing that I could remember that brought up the feelings of sadness and all I could come up with was a vague idea of my dad. A carousel of horrible moments in time, like flashbacks in a movie raced through my mind, all equalling sadness that I turned into anger. Because just what do I do with sadness? Anger, in my family, was much more acceptable than sadness …or maybe it just got more attention. In fact, now that I think about it, everyone in my small family environment was angry about something.

I was in a play in high school with a fairly awesome drama teacher who during that time period took me aside and said “Through your sadness, you bring others joy”. Though it has stuck with me through the years, I was shocked at the time …I honestly had no idea I was sad until that moment.

What moments from my past have I held onto so closely that they have now become part of my identity …and so much so that I have no idea either what they are or how to let them go? And even while I ask myself the questions I’m not sure if answers are even what I want. Is it possible I like the sadness? Is it possible that I hold the pain close to my heart so I can trigger the sadness at any moment just to feel it again and again and again?

But here’s a new sadness added to all the others that have compiled over time giving life to my present moment. How the fuck am I ever going to not be sad about not being able to get pregnant and create a family I always dreamed of? How?

And what’s worse is I hate that I’m sad about it …AND I hate that I’m judgmental about how I feel about it. It’s beyond ridiculous.

Have you seen the movie Julie and Julia? If you’re a blogger or love to cook or maybe even are just a female, odds are you did. For me, there were really only two moments that stood out. One is when Julia is in the park, she notices a woman pushing a stroller and was visibly upset by it and two, when Julia cried at the news of her sister’s pregnancy. Julia wasn’t young in this particular portrayal of her life yet her tears were obvious pain & sadness of not being able to create and have a family {though I do not know her bio and/or why she remained childless}. So I guess my question is, did that pain stay with her until she died?

. . . meaning

Am I going to be upset about this forever?

There are so many components tied into it now it’s utterly mind blowing. And every time I think I’m okay with it, that I’ve accepted it, the sadness inexplicably returns. I honestly wish there was some way to be unaffected by it all but I’m not sure what that is. {If you’re a long-time reader, you may know this from reading my previous pregnancy posts and by now you must be rolling your eyes}. Sometimes I’m not even aware I’m upset but yesterday for instance, I was so very tired, like didn’t want to get out of bed -tired. And when my husband came home later that afternoon I told him how tired I was and he asked me what I was sad about? I said “Sad? ..I thought I was just tired. But now I want to cry” …what am I sad about?

The same thing I’m always sad about.

I guess this is how I’m working through it. Thanks for listening 😉