On Trying to Live With Grief

So I've been going about the business of trying to live peaceably with grief in my life. I've noticed that the problem I've been running into is that when I'm grieving, I feel depressed. Anybody who's felt depressed could tell you that it's difficult to function normally under those conditions. So it's a bad circle because if you can't function normally it's tough to live your life peaceably.

But I've been trying. I've been going through days. In this process of trying to manage under the circumstances and trying to continue on while trying to find a new acceptable normal, I've uncovered a couple of problem areas. Now they've become nagging thoughts that plauge me and give me guilt.

One is that I feel bad for my husband. Not only am I grouchy (third trimester normalcy), but I feel like I'm a pretty big downer to be around and to live with. I mean, what a deal for him. Meet a nice, joking, fun, girl; date; get engaged; get married; only to find yourself with somebody completely different a few years down the road than who you started out with. I know that I miss the old me, imagine how he feels.

The other one is that I feel bad for my children. See above: grouchy. Only add a whole slew of other things like impatient, mean, ornery, ininterested, disconnected, sluggish.. And they never had the benefit of meeting me when I felt like a nice, loving person.

The thing that eats at me probably the most about that, though, is something I read in a Catholic Mothers Online post awhile back. One thing in particular stood out to me and stuck in my memory. The author bolded the suggestion to smile at your children because the most beautiful thing to a child is his mother's smile. (Funny to have to remind a mother to do this, eh?--well it stuck with me and I've reminded myself of it many times. It's true, they do like it. They smile back.)

Well when you're going through a difficult time; situational depression, my midwife tells me; it's tough to smile at all. Even out in public with strangers and especially at home with family where you're most honest, most yourself. But I suppose my family deserves the benefit of a little effort, huh? (I try. I do try. It's just not easy and it's not what I feel like doing. I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning if I did exactly what I felt like!)

And you know those people who, when you were in school, if you were having a crummy day they'd come up to you and look at you and say, "what's wrong?" all sympathetic and caring, and they were more than an acquaintence than a friend so it was hard to appreciate their caring or sincerity? And then you'd have to say something to them to satisfy their inquiry? That always annoyed me. [BUT, at the same time I've never been one to be able to (or try really hard to) mask what I'm feeling and/or censor how it comes across on my face or in my body language. So maybe it's my own fault.]

Well now I have a certain two-year-old boy that I live with who will, at regular intervals, come up to me, place himself in my direct line of sight, then either get really close or grab my face or both, and then he smiles as big as he possibly can and do it repeatedly until I reciprocate. Talk about a subtle reality check. Ugh. Not something I feel good about. A definite sign I'm failing at smiling at my children.

So not only are there repercussions for my husband and children, the new baby and I are showing some physical signs as well. Namely, gaining way too much weight this pregnancy due to overeating and inactivity, because when I feel crummy I eat crummy and when I feel crummy I rarely take the initiative to get up and get active. Bum deal. I know that I would probably feel much better if I would suck it up, get proactive, and do the right things (eat better/normally and exercise). I do sometimes, but it's in spurts: when I feel strong vs. when I feel weak, good days vs. bad days. So, all I can do is keep trying.

I suppose that's all that can be said, huh? There will be good days and bad days, days when I feel strong and days when I feel weak, but all that I can do is keep trying. Keep going through the days, one at a time, until eventually, maybe the good days will outnumber the bad days once again.