It Would Appear I Have Some 'Splaining To Do...
/First off, any one who is looking for some funny, you might want to keep on looking. Come back tomorrow. I have some goodies I have been saving.
That said, I offer my apologies for my absence for the blogosphere. You see...
Once upon a time, I was a woman with yellow and brown hair, who had stripey lines on her face and saggy boobs (all thanks to her darling children) who was extremely happy. I had the man of my dreams and the three best kids in the world. And then one night, suddenly, my youngest baby died. No explanation, no preparation. Just 'Poof!'
We grieved. We cried, we hugged, we tried to heal. And on the surface, that is exactly what was happening. My husband was doing his best at coping and my kids bounced along like little rubber balls. I began to use my computer to make new friends and try to remember the joy I once felt. I knew I couldn't be swallowed by the darkness that threatened to pull me under every day.
So I blogged, and read other blogs, and I gardened. I poked holes in my nose and painted my backside with a memorial. I ran. I did everything except mop the floor. (Really. I would beg my girlfriend to come and do it for me. I hate mopping.) The one thing I didn't do was let go of my baby.
Then school let out and my children were around every day. Wanting to do the things they did last summer with their baby brother. And it became too much for me. You see, I am an outdoorsy type of gal. Which meant my kids are outdoorsy types of children. Even the handicapped ones. But it seems that I hadn't made peace with my twenty acre paradise. Every where I looked I have memories of the Shalebug. And it overwhelmed me.
I had a mini breakdown. I screamed and cried and railed against the world. I pounded on my husband's chest with my fists so that he could feel the pain that was tearing my soul apart. I am ashamed that I treated him so poorly. That I diminished his grief just because he was actually coping better than I was. That night no one slept. The kids cried and Boo and I cried.
The next morning I went to see a therapist. I couldn't behave this way and help my kids. I couldn't behave this way and expect my husband to stand by my side. Or not kill me. So I sought help. Which was the hardest thing I have done since I buried the little guy and walked away from him for the final time.
Things got better, but I became overwhelmed at the idea of blogging. I avoided my blog like the plague. I didn't check the mail, nor did I read any other blogs. I felt guilty that I abandoned you dear internet, but at the same time I just didn't have the energy to come back to you.
Not only did I let blogging go, but I let my garden go. Funny the two most important hobbies I have, writing and gardening, I just couldn't face. My poor garden looks like a jungle. The upside to it, is the moose are very happy with me.
Along the way, other things happened. The dreaded bridesmaid dress was worn. Shudder I survived. I managed to mend fences with my parents. I lost a friend and found a new one. I pulled my family close around me and tried to enjoy the life I have been granted.
And I grew stronger. Don't get me wrong. I still feel the pain of his death like it is a chain being yanked around my neck. I still wonder if I will ever really feel joy without feeling guilt. Without wishing he was with me. And I know hard times lay ahead. His one year anniversary is right around the corner. But now I can sit down and smile. Flex my fingers and find my funny.
Imagine my surprise, when last night on a whim, I decided to check out my mail. Over a hundred messages awaited me. And only five were junk mail. I just about fainted. I absolutely did not realize any one would even miss me. Ironically, I get more hits when I don't blog than when I do....I'm trying not to look too deep into that.
If you will still have me dear internet, I am back. I'm lurking about, doing my best to take it one day at a time. Please don't be offended if I don't comment regularly or at all, just know that I'm here. Living and breathing. Surviving. And now, blogging.
I promise not to go away with out letting any one know that I am okay.
And if something happens to me that prevents me from blogging, I promise to have Boo peck out a message with his two hammy fingers to let you all know what's up.
That said, I offer my apologies for my absence for the blogosphere. You see...
Once upon a time, I was a woman with yellow and brown hair, who had stripey lines on her face and saggy boobs (all thanks to her darling children) who was extremely happy. I had the man of my dreams and the three best kids in the world. And then one night, suddenly, my youngest baby died. No explanation, no preparation. Just 'Poof!'
We grieved. We cried, we hugged, we tried to heal. And on the surface, that is exactly what was happening. My husband was doing his best at coping and my kids bounced along like little rubber balls. I began to use my computer to make new friends and try to remember the joy I once felt. I knew I couldn't be swallowed by the darkness that threatened to pull me under every day.
So I blogged, and read other blogs, and I gardened. I poked holes in my nose and painted my backside with a memorial. I ran. I did everything except mop the floor. (Really. I would beg my girlfriend to come and do it for me. I hate mopping.) The one thing I didn't do was let go of my baby.
Then school let out and my children were around every day. Wanting to do the things they did last summer with their baby brother. And it became too much for me. You see, I am an outdoorsy type of gal. Which meant my kids are outdoorsy types of children. Even the handicapped ones. But it seems that I hadn't made peace with my twenty acre paradise. Every where I looked I have memories of the Shalebug. And it overwhelmed me.
I had a mini breakdown. I screamed and cried and railed against the world. I pounded on my husband's chest with my fists so that he could feel the pain that was tearing my soul apart. I am ashamed that I treated him so poorly. That I diminished his grief just because he was actually coping better than I was. That night no one slept. The kids cried and Boo and I cried.
The next morning I went to see a therapist. I couldn't behave this way and help my kids. I couldn't behave this way and expect my husband to stand by my side. Or not kill me. So I sought help. Which was the hardest thing I have done since I buried the little guy and walked away from him for the final time.
Things got better, but I became overwhelmed at the idea of blogging. I avoided my blog like the plague. I didn't check the mail, nor did I read any other blogs. I felt guilty that I abandoned you dear internet, but at the same time I just didn't have the energy to come back to you.
Not only did I let blogging go, but I let my garden go. Funny the two most important hobbies I have, writing and gardening, I just couldn't face. My poor garden looks like a jungle. The upside to it, is the moose are very happy with me.
Along the way, other things happened. The dreaded bridesmaid dress was worn. Shudder I survived. I managed to mend fences with my parents. I lost a friend and found a new one. I pulled my family close around me and tried to enjoy the life I have been granted.
And I grew stronger. Don't get me wrong. I still feel the pain of his death like it is a chain being yanked around my neck. I still wonder if I will ever really feel joy without feeling guilt. Without wishing he was with me. And I know hard times lay ahead. His one year anniversary is right around the corner. But now I can sit down and smile. Flex my fingers and find my funny.
Imagine my surprise, when last night on a whim, I decided to check out my mail. Over a hundred messages awaited me. And only five were junk mail. I just about fainted. I absolutely did not realize any one would even miss me. Ironically, I get more hits when I don't blog than when I do....I'm trying not to look too deep into that.
If you will still have me dear internet, I am back. I'm lurking about, doing my best to take it one day at a time. Please don't be offended if I don't comment regularly or at all, just know that I'm here. Living and breathing. Surviving. And now, blogging.
I promise not to go away with out letting any one know that I am okay.
And if something happens to me that prevents me from blogging, I promise to have Boo peck out a message with his two hammy fingers to let you all know what's up.