So most of my therapy talk is off limits on the blog but something I have been working on is my ability to cry– I do not cry easily anymore. Until last night it was just a theory, but now I’m pretty sure it’s just because my mind has blocked off my ability to feel.
I am reading Glennon Doyle’s Untamed (which is fabulous, BTW), and something in the book reminded me of this ongoing issue my therapist and I have talked about on and off, and I decided to experiment. It was bedtime (past actually), and I remembered I used to do my best thinking and feeling in the shower, so I took my daily shower last night instead of this morning. And then I proceeded to think about a series of the saddest and scariest things that have happened in my life, and….nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing with regard to family issues or previous relationships or anything at all. No feelings to go with any of it, either.
But then, I remembered sitting alone in NICU Bay 20, and being incredulous that they had brought a baby warmer into my room at 34 1/2 weeks, and how it didn’t feel like I thought having a baby was supposed to feel like, and how Jared and I were all alone for so long with this baby in the NICU that the said would live but I just wasn’t sure. I remembered sitting there in the dark with Porter under the bili lights when he was 3-4 days old, with me journaling while Jared was off at his first graduate school classes, prepared to say goodbye to him at any moment as the alarms started going off with unpredictable but certain regularity, and just being grateful to have experienced being a mother for even a day or two. I remembered the terror at hearing the alarms whenever I touched him or held him, and what it felt like to not be able to hold my child for any length of time. I remembered being certain I was going to give birth to a dead baby at 34 weeks and I remembered the sound of his cries before he was even out all the way, so mad to have been evicted from my body that was done with him before he was done with me.
I remembered being alone with all of this at 26 years old, so far away from home and people I loved. And, the tears came in a big sob.
I can feel. It’s just buried damn deep.
But the thing is….as soon as it came, it was over and I was back to feeling normal and ready for sleep. It wasn’t a flood.
But man, I normally only dream when I take certain medications, but I sure dreamed a range of very bizarre, vivid dreams last night. So strange.
Hopefully, there is more of this work to come. Can’t say if I’ll feel compelled to write later or not.