As the days turn to weeks and the weeks into months I am getting better at my 'Public Face'. I'm sure anyone coming through babyloss will know this face well... It's that smiley happy face, that face that says 'I'm OK'. The face that makes people think - she's coping well, she's handling things, she's finding her way through, she'll get there.
Some days I think I manage to fool even myself with the face so firmly positioned. Other days I feel like I want to rip the face off and show people the ugly truth that lurks beneath. I want to scream and shout and rave 'My baby, I want her! I miss her! I ache for her! Let me be with her, I need to be with her'.
I'm tired. So tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of pretending. Tired of trying to get through the day. Tired of trying to make it through the night.
In the beginning I sought comfort in sleep. When I slept I didn't hurt - so I slept a lot. But now, in some cruel twist of fate I can't even seek solace in sleep anymore because as soon as my eyes close the nightmares start. Really they are more like night terrors - I shake, writhe and scream in my sleep. I wake up sobbing and struggle to close my eyes again. I see her everynight - but not in my dreams. They are never nice. I never feel love in my nightmares - only sheer terror. I re-live that day. That day. But it's even more horrific in my dreams, if that is even possible. And then it will change. There are different variations but always the same subject. Last night I was screaming as I was gribbing fistfuls of earth and mud - clawing at her grave - desperately wanting to be with her.
Maybe the face isn't such a good idea. Maybe my sub-concious is trying to tell me that I have to take the face off and deal with my reality. Maybe its trying to tell me that its impossible to outrun reality.
This is my reality now... This is my now. And I guess I can't hide from it forever because it will always find a way to get me.
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