In Which My Rage Has Logic and Requires Protective Eyewear

I'll spare you the gory details, suffice to say that my middle sister came to visit, pushed quite a few buttons, and after three hours of her talking at me, her husband and her finally left.  At which point I calmly put on C's clear plastic safety eyeglass's, went out and rolled a couple hundred pound chunk of tree that had been cut down earlier this summer, grabbed the sledgehammer and went to town. The end result was a beaten up piece of wood, me having a fantastic cry, the kind where you can feel the wailing start at the tips of your toes, and work its way through your entire body before it escapes, and you end up a puddle of snot and tears and hiccuping sobs when its over.

Really and truly it was an amazing dichotomy of feeling so full of anger and rage, and at the same time so coldly calm.  I was never out of control, I didn't see red, every action I took was a logically thought through.  I bypassed the option of breaking the cheap thin wine glass's I ran across the other day, as well as taking the dishes down and throwing them, both for the same reason, I wouldn't be able to get out having to clean up the shards left over.  I thought of throwing them into the bottom of an empty trash can, but with my luck the pieces would come right back at me.  Hence the reason I wore the safety glass's.  Saved myself a trip to the ER in which I would have to explain that my sister is crazy and that I had to assault a log with a sledgehammer after she left.  I don't think that would go over so well.

After all the sobbing ended, and I had a few moments to regroup I called a dear friend and chatted about what had happened.  Sometimes, after an emotional moment, I just need to connect with someone, someone sane, who will confirm that I've not lost my mind, and that it's all going to be ok.

In the light of day, the log looks a little worse for the wear.  C came home and asked why there was a log and sledgehammer in the back lot.  When I explained, God love him, he just chuckled and gave me a hug.

And now onto the knitting pictures I promised.  Above spoken of sisters socks. Pattern I used was Java from the fabulous Knitty in the Malabrigo colorway Primavera.

Please pay no mind to my dirty floor.

She loves them. (yay) So much so that she asked how much they cost, how long it took me to make them, and then asked if I would make her at least five more pair, and that she would pay me for them.  Ok, side note, the yarn isn't all that expensive, its the time it takes me, about one and a half months to two months, to finish a pair.  Admittedly, I usually work on other small projects also, but still.  She just asked me to devote my next entire year of knitting to socks for her.  I honestly don't think she has any idea what she was asking.  I was so aghast I don't think I ever answered her. *sigh* (Now do you see why I had to go pound wood!?)

Moving on, here are C's house socks, once we got home he really wanted to put puff paint on the bottoms so he wouldn't fall down the stairs.  (I caved since his back is already fubar'd enough).  Super deduper soft Rowan Alpaca Chunky in Pigeon. The pattern I used was from Rowans brochure Winter Warmers.

I've also started their Snow Hat which doubles as a cowl.  Uber nifty if you ask me.  I'm using Rowans Lima in the Cusco colorway.  Its knitting up super fast.  I love me some Stockinette stitch in the round.  I'll be finishing my nephews hat tonight so he can take it home tomorrow.  I'm also hoping to cast on my last sisters pair of socks.  I'm using Crock-O-Dye's Chocolate colorway and the pattern Sunday Swing, again from the fabulous Knitty.  Well, my fire has burned down and needs tending, and I've got me some knitting to do.  I hope you all have a blessed Thanksgiving tomorrow, or whenever you choose to celebrate it.  As for me, I'll be premedicating and keeping the visit short so as to end on a high note.  (Much thanks to my dear friend Kim for suggesting that). 

Its Been a Whale of a Day or Two (A delayed post)

So holy buckets full of tears.  Cant seem to stop crying the last couple of days.  I know that it is part of grieving, and I know I have every right to be crying right now, but it still sucks.  It is this horrible tricky tricky guilt that gets to me.  I seem to have set these expectations, that are absolute bullshit, and I was talking to a friend of mine at work about them, and she suggested that maybe I should try and read more of the grieving books or read stories online written by baby loss mamas, so I can see that it is okay to not meet the expectations I have for myself in my head.  So I realize that I'm not a bad mama for not having looked through all of P's pictures and videos yet (I have 6 CD/DVD's full), and that its okay that I haven't been able to write her birth story yet.  I don't know WHY I feel like I should have done these things.  Same reason maybe that I don't read more of the grief books, or stories online, or journal more.  They are all triggers, of sadness, I know I'll cry, some of them will cause instant panic attacks, horrible anxiety.  Who would WANT to do things that cause all of the above.  Its like sticking your hand in a boiling pot of water.  No rational person would do such a thing, because they obviously know that it will hurt like hell, and that the hurt won't go away anytime soon, and then how can you function with your burned hand?  You can't very well go to work and be expected to use your hand can you?  For me its the same with doing any of these things.  It feels like I have to wipe a day off the calendar and have nothing else planned because I won't be sure that I'll be able to function when I've done, or maybe even just started the task.  And its so exhausting, so tiring, it just takes everything out of me, I just wanna crawl in bed.

Then there is the unspeakable, the thoughts in my head that I know are mine but that don't make any sense to me.  The thought of suicide.  Its absolutely ridiculous. As horrible as losing my daughter was, I want to live, I don't feel hopeless, or helpless, I have days where I laugh, I still enjoy life, there is SOOOO much more I have left to do, I am not done living, so it can be so confusing when these thoughts enter my head.  And please, my friends, try your best not to worry. I have many many many people who love me who I know I can reach out to, and I do.  I know when I'm not okay to be alone.  I ask for help.  I can be honest about this.  It totally sucks, but it is part of my life, and I am blessed enough to be surrounded by people who love me, and who are able to hold me up when I can't stand myself.

I am so very grateful to all of you, who talk with me, and listen to me, laugh with me and let me cry.  I read the term somewhere, and have found that I have them also.  They are called grief-eaters, and you, my friends are that to me.  You, by listening, and sending me your love, and thoughts, and virtual hugs, and comforting tweets, by just letting me know you're thinking of me, bite by bite you ease my pain.

I began this post a few weeks ago.  I needed to take a bit of a break, refocus, and now I feel that I am able to come back and revisit it.  To admit that I have days like the ones when I began this post is difficult.  I am normally a pretty well contented person.  So to have these raging emotions flowing through me is hard at times to handle, and sometimes I just don't know where to put my emotions.  My counselor says that is me, trying to control the situation, and to put some form of order to what is chaos.

I have found several new blogs to follow, they are also mothers struggling with the loss of a child. I find a certain terrible kind of kinship in their words, having thought or felt nearly the exact things they are pouring out through their keyboards.  Sometimes it makes me feel a little less alone in my grief.   I can only hope I may lend that comfort to someone else.