This life

So many days. Weeks. Months... The thoughts are never far but so very unexpected It still sometimes jumps out to rattle me The only way to describe the feeling is like shock Like a deep punch to the stomach Hollow Heavy Slow I do still find these feelings come in cycles and most certainly I'm sure they'll be there forever She will be a part of me forever I don't want to be that dead baby mama though I never liked her She was needed but not wanted I've finally found a place in life where I can be my quirky self Where I'm not constantly reminded of my past I've made awesome friends who know me as the person they see before them, not anything else Nobody knows me as the woman whose baby died I hated that person That feeling The way it often defined my personality Yes it was my reality for a time and I did find that she would creep so easily into conversation but this RIGHT NOW is not my life I'm all for the now. The living. This life. I'm finally me Focused Happy Living This smile is real By all means it's not perfect Fuck I'm not perfect There are moments Needs Wants Desires Hopes Dreams When I'm stressed or feeling unbalanced The contents of the neatly packaged box inside me begin to spill out When I'm craving touch the cracks appear Simple human connections When conversations become dangerously close to deep Afraid of scaring them away or confusing the balance Protecting what is Ruining a good thing And so it goes Up and down Mostly up Much less down Much much less down It is what it is...

Distance

I never believed people when they shared the usual cliched sayings about time, time passing and time healing. I'm not sure I believe them anymore than I did when they said it to me the first time but I can't deny the fact that yes, time continues to pass and if you're still breathing then you continue to breathe, albeit with a struggle sometimes and suddenly it's 3 years down the grief and loss path.
I feel like this is going to turn into some kind of confession. Out of guilt. Or perhaps this is just a new kind of processing. Is it still called grief after so much time has passed? Is that acceptable?
It all is. Is what you want or need it to be.

I look back over the past year and I feel like there was very little of her in it.
This makes me feel guilty.
Like the addiction to melancholy.
The addiction to sadness.
It is less and less and I am happy.

I've had some fairly big upheaval in my life over the past twelve months and there has been quite a lot of happiness and love for myself. This in itself is fucking huge progress yet there's this lurking guilt that pounces. That moment when you fleetingly think of her. Think of her life and realise you've been so busy living, you feel like she's not there within your grasp.
That she's so far away. So far in the past. I always wondered if I'd ever feel normal again. Secretly hoping that I would be happy.

However I do not want to reach too far into the darkness to find her for fear of getting lost in it.
Is this what living feels like? Accepting loss. Accepting that it's okay to love and laugh. To smile. To feel joy.
To be free of the dark.

I do still struggle with the internal negative voice. Sad girl. She's still hidden in there somewhere. She speaks out if I let her. I know she's always going to be a part of me. She is me. I am her. I will not give her that freedom though. I do acknowledge the thoughts, struggle with them and over think them.

Having met someone, unexpected yet wonderful has been like a whirlwind. I find myself sabotaging it. Thinking of reasons it's not ever going to work for me. Fueling the negative sad girl. Giving her reason to stomp on my heart.

I will work on her. I will continue to laugh, smile, love and live. I will.

History

I do not know where to begin.

There were fleeting moments recently where all I could feel was how distant it all seems.
How I sometimes feel like I need to fight to keep the memories close, yet knowing deeply that they do not need to be so close to the surface anymore.
It's okay.
It really really is.

I am amazed that I'm here.
The wounds of loss to not burst open. The raw edges do not burn into my heart. The very core of me.

I feel whole.
I feel human.
I feel.

The directions in this journey have been varied but here I am. Still.

She is not less.
I am not less.

We are still real.
Still a story.
Still a part of my history.
This is key.
It's past.
It is not present.
It no longer needs to be first.
The pain.
The grief.
The guilt.
They do not define me.

I am seeing the world with brand new eyes.

Bound

I want to let it out

I want to write
To flow
To be empty of the swirling thoughts
The never ending buzz in my mind
The restlessness

It won't come

It just swirls and swirls
Violently
Crashing and thrashing from side to side
Fighting for space
Room to breathe
With no release

Neglected Blog=Another Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Image

Today I simply glanced at a picture of you and the walls came crumbling down.
It's difficult to explain why.
I've recently put quite a few photos away.
I just didn't want to look at them for a while.
I needed a rest from that lingering wonder.

The smells
The sounds
The feelings
All of the things that go with the memory of you.

Out of sight but it seems you are never out of my mind.
A single photo broke my carefully placed walls.
Opened that neatly closed little box.

A single photo. Photographic evidence of a precious life fading. Of a life that no longer exists.
Of a love that is in question.
Of a time and a place that can only be a memory.

Some days those moments seem so far away.
I think I believed I was really heading in a positive direction and then something rattles your confidence and you're left to rebuild all over again.

I'm tired of rebuilding.