I wake up feeling great. Well, maybe not great, but really good.
I feel positive.
My day goes on. Things happen. Things like a million pregnancy/baby/kid posts on Facebook. Things like me stalking the August Due Date club I had joined. Things like me being masochistic and depressing myself.
So by the time I fight traffic, get gas, and get home, my mood is not good.
And that's what Buster gets to deal with. The shattered, emotionally-drained me. Not the positive, feeling-pretty-good me. And I know that's hard for him.
Like any good husband, he hates seeing his wife unhappy. He feels helpless because he cannot cheer me up. He works hard trying to keep my spirits good, and it is wearing him out.
Yesterday when I got home, he said that he doesn't want to deal with it anymore.
After a couple deep breaths, I said that I also do not want to deal with it. At all. I wish I could erase the past three months and all the memories and all the happiness and sadness, and everything in between. Eternal Sunshine style.
And something I said resonated, because then he apologized. And I apologized for not being the best me of the day when I'm at home. That's where I want to be my best me. Not when I'm in front of a computer screen in an office, alone.
This is hard. Not only experiencing a loss and dealing with the emotional ramifications, but carrying on relationships, especially the most important one. Trying to find a balance between grieving but also maintaining your life and love.
Most of the time I feel alone.
I am really considering taking a FaceBreak. My FB feed could not be anymore baby-centric, and I'm not sure it is doing anything positive for me at the moment. Actually, I know it's contributing to my less-than-stellar moods. I hate that it's such a big decision, that I really need to think about it. Why can't I just step away? I'd love to not have to deal with it.