I hesitate to write this post, if not for anything to appear depressed, because I don't think that I am (Ben & Jerry might disagree with my personal assessment, but that's another post.)
I am however, in a place that is foreign to me in many ways.
I can't quite think about when this occurred, except to say looking back, I've noticed that loneliness has been a frequent friend of mine. Maybe for the last year or so, but certainly the last few months.
I feel... disconnected.... at times. The days go by so fast, and I feel like just an afterthought in them. Oddly, my relationship with S and David seems unaffected. In fact, when they are gone (S at work , D at school), I miss them so, so much. All I can focus on is their return, and the nights and weekends we share with just the three of us.
But on the outside, in the company of family, co-workers, friends, neighbors... I feel so lonely. I find myself disconnecting and not able to reach out. To those who know me IRL, this statement would seem out of character for me. In fact, I think if you would ask anyone, they may not even be aware of my precarious state of mind.
My irrational self has always wondered if I stop reaching out, will people stop reaching out to me? And the answer in my head over the last six months has been a resounding YES. This terrifies me, and at the same time I feel strangely indifferent about the whole thing.
Can I blame the events over the last 4 years? Well, sure. Infertility, and each attempt and loss has had a profound effect. I've posted many times on this subject, and I hate to appear like a whining child, but YES, it has destroyed many things in my life. Confidence and Faith most prominently. And it has changed my view of others and their response to me.
How odd it is... having always been "the mother figure" (especially to friends), that I am in this place where I am on the flip side? Needing nurturing myself.
But my response to my intense need is to withdraw, and with that appearing unavailable to those I love. Wounded, but soldiering on. Sometimes being mischaracterized as not caring. Angry that those closest to me don't see it and judge me for the wrong reasons.
So as I have drawn inward, and have spoken less and less about my treatment and failure I now find that I can hardly remember what Shelli was four years ago. I am permanently changed. And on the days I long to reach out to anyone who will hear me and listen, I sit afraid. Afraid because I feel I have no one who won't judge me. Lonely. Wishing for someone to reach out and say.. "I'm here, I'm listening." instead of my having to be the sad puppy looking to be stroked.
Aside from this aspect of loneliness, something else is bothering me beyond measure. David has been becoming more and more vocal on the subject of wanting a sibling. So much so that he almost demands adequate explanation. While it is inappropriate to tell him the "whole truth" I long to grab him and hold him and cry on his shoulder... "me too..."
I don't want him to be an only child. If we remain a family of three life will be just fine, I know that. But imagining a family of four or five is the reason I've endured this long.
The problem is, if I get there (or if I don't), what is to become of me? If I stay in my shell, do I risk losing everyone? Or will some be kind and understand that my present and future requires healing to get back to the way I used to be?
I wish I knew.