I love you. I love you. I love you. Over and over again. 

I am roaming again. 

My stomach aches and I can’t sleep. I’ve fed it something that I knew would come back and haunt me this evening. I don’t know why I do this to myself. So the acid rises up to my throat and there’s the uncomfortable gurgle deep in my guts. 

Bad stomach, they say, genetic.. you got it bad from both sides. 

And then I think of my mother.

You are not her. My sister says. She tells me this multiple times over my lifetime and my own mortality keeps me awake sometimes at night, when the acid rises and my guts bubble. 

I should get to a doctor I think. Get this checked out. But I won’t. Because I know I am not her. 

Instead, I’m in my brain… thinking of a life without me. Thinking of the letters that I write to my boys, that everyone thinks are so sweet. And I say yes, it’s so they know how they were growing up. But in reality it so they can hear from me if ever I go too early. They’ll have my voice with them. Saying I love you. I love you. I love you. Over and over again. 

And I am in my brain. Apologizing to the baby because he doesn’t have as many letters as his older brother. And calling a friend that will take care of their photos and writing down all of the things I do to keep this boat floating that J doesn’t know. Passwords and payments and appointments and keepsakes and letters so many letters. 

And then I am sad. Because people shouldn’t think about things like that. Right? But I do. When I’m roaming and the acid starts to rise. 

And I roll over in the pitch black room and listen to his breathing. Unwrap his arms and make room for myself to crawl in. He mumbles but accepts. But he doesn’t know about my brain and what my stomach makes me think about. He doesn’t live in a world where he can’t speak to his mother and hear I love you. I love you. I love you. Over and over again. 

Where are you going? He asks as I stumble out of bed. 

My stomach is aching. I need to get up. I’ll be back after it settles down. 

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My bubble and being connected 

Is it possible to feel both way too connected to everything and disconnected at the same time?  Whatever that feeling is… I am it. Right now with the world the way that it is, with people treating eachother the way that they are, I want to retreat back into my bubble with my little family. I don’t go out much, unless I absolutely have to. I’m sure a lot of what I’m feeling has to do with the weather. The bitter cold has given way to dreary rainy days… but I know the cold will still return in February… maybe even March.

I’ve been readingthings about children. Random articles seem to find me. Topics about neglect or abuse. And it breaks my heart every single time. I don’t understand it. How anyone could ever be cruel to a child.

Everything is internal. I don’t feel like talking really. I don’t feel like doing things outside of my house. It’s not to say that I’m sad. I just need to be alone for a little while. To figure out why I’m feeling this way, what I can do about it, and decide if I need to change it or just feel it.

I’m sure I’ll feel better once the sunshine returns.

I have so much hope for this year. I have a casuous heart and watching eyes though. I feel like I’m missing something or someone.

Life has been about surviving lately. Making it through the day. I haven’t found a good balance here yet. I feel like most days, evenings especially, are just doing things in order to have everyone functioning for the next day. Checklists and piles by the door, waiting for the morning so I can start over again.

I need to find my rythym. So I’m not just surviving. Or maybe let my own expectations of my self be a little lower so I can be more present.

This is my brain right now.

I’m sure I’ll be better once the sunshine returns.

Wake up

I am dreaming of a future that might not happen again. Wake up. I am looking back at the past again. Wake up. I catch a glimpse of what could have been. Wake up. I am searching for redemption. Wake up. Important things that I forgot to mention. Wake up. 

Tossing and turning. It’s too hot to sleep. I wake up. I am roaming again. But where are you going? I just can’t sleep right now. I need to wake up again. I’ll come back to you soon. After my brain has silenced and these thoughts fade. 

Tomorrow’s morning comes too soon. When tonight’s rest is not an option. 

Surely, one day I won’t be so tired. 

Insomnia and trying not to be a hermit.

The last few nights I have not been able to sleep. I love sleep. I am not a person that needs to know what is going on at all hours of the day. I could nap for a couple of hours, get up and eat dinner, then go back to sleep. Sleep is my friend. I look forward to going to sleep every. single. day. But as I said… the last few nights sleep has not come in a timely manner. Maybe it’s because my husband has been on nights this week and even though I can hold my own, it always leaves me with an unsettling feeling. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been drinking coffee too late into the evening again. Or maybe it’s because I worry about everything from my whole damn life as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I am the type of person who either worries and analyzes everything way too much or doesn’t give one single shit about anything. There is no in between with me. One or the other. I think it’s the analyzing and worrying that is getting to me lately. The fact that I need to call the insurance company, or remember to remind Jason of a doctors appointment that he’s got to take care of, or buy Jack’s school uniforms, or I have no idea what to cook for dinner the next night. These are the ridiculous things that keep me awake. My lists… my to dos. But some nights it’s my never want to dos again…

Those nights are the worst. The nights where I lay down and think about things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. Like oh, you know what we haven’t thought about in a while? The night mom died! Let’s relive that in our brain. Or you know what would be great for you to think about? The day we lost baby Ben. Come on, you know you want to!

Those are the nights that I find myself roaming the house. In the dark, on my island, not wanting to close my eyes and be reminded. Sometimes I find myself sitting outside in the dark just looking up and wondering what the fuck happened in my life. Don’t get me wrong. I have the most amazing life and I have so much to be thankful for. But sometimes I feel like I’m the carrier of Murphy’s law. You know, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. I used to struggle with this a lot after high school. In a particularly rough period of time where I lost a lot of people that I loved. If they love me they will die. Everyone leaves in the end. I know that sounds extreme. But it was honestly how I felt. All that I loved went away.

My sister and I have had many conversations about this. Why we are like this. Why our brains work the way that they do. Maybe it was because Mom was sick for so long. And dying for so much longer… Death became a dinner table discussion. (Not really table, more so mom’s bed dinner, because that’s where we all ate.) I live with the constant fear that every time my husband walks out the door that he will not be coming back to me. I struggled with that thought so much after we lost Benjamin that I ended up leaving him. Because some where in my twisted brain that was easier… for me to leave before some other shitty thing would happen and I would be alone anyway. Since then, and with some talking to a psychiatrist, I’ve realized how crazy that sounds.

But you see, when I get stuck inside my head like this I become an island. I am out there, on my own, and no one can touch me. I’d rather not leave my house. I’d rather not talk on the phone. Cut all ties. Shut it down. Because I am a disaster waiting to happen. Click then boom. Sometimes when life is going well I keep waiting for the floor to come out from under me. I am never completely settled. Never completely content. Because for my whole life I was taught that as soon as you were something would go wrong.

I’m tired today. My island is calling me… but I’m not picking up.