I'd like to interrupt our regularly scheduled posts to say a little thank you to everyone who was so sweet after my ...ehh... incident last week. I haven't really wanted to talk about it much, which is strange because usually I just want to talk things to death until they're satisfactorily resolved. Maybe that's why, because this can never be resolved? Well anyway I just want to say thank you, to everyone who sent supportive comments, tweets, and emails. It helped, it really did. You guys are the best.
My posts on this blog are usually scheduled ahead of time, when I'm feeling good. Then I go into a photography frenzy and whip up as many as I can, especially the Things That Make Me Happy, because I know it won't stay that way and I need these little reminders for myself that it was that way and it will be again soon. I'm getting used to some new-ish medication and things are just very confusing a lot of the time. So that I'm not repeating myself, I'm reblogging a post from my semi-private Tumblr o' Feelings. What happened is not over, maybe it will never be, but I just wanted to be real for a minute. I'm using the tumblr less these days, which is maybe a good sign, and so I could possibly kind of merge the two efforts together (including my impressive collection of Liz Lemon gifs) when I'm sure I can be trusted not to blather some truly crazypants stuff all over the interwebs :) I just don't want to be fake. I don't want to have that secret blog where I act human and then come over here and pretend I just make things all day and do whatever I want. Well I mean, that is pretty much exactly what I do but that's not the point here.
Ok anyway here goes...
Let’s review the last three months. I went nuts. I did some awful things. I got pregnant. I got UNpregnant. I was happy. I was sad. I was euphoric. I was suicidal. And really, none of it was all that long ago. It was only a few days ago that something inside my body DIED. And what am I doing? Sewing. Crafting. Cooking. Blogging. Joking with my friends. Planning menus and parties. I’m like, here’s a word vomit-y blog post and thennnnn I’m done. It’s over. Finished, MOVE ON. Who does that? What kind of person am I? Why can’t I cry? Why am I not completely devastated? Why am I still showering and brushing my teeth and shaving my legs? Ok, well I’m not REALLY shaving my legs. Even though my husband put a shiny new expensive razor in the shower as an unavoidable hint. Shrug.
I have feelings, I do, just more like intellectually I recognize this as an appropriate response. Like I’m a freaking robot or something. Ironically this is kind of what I always wanted but… I dunno, it’s not really that pleasant.