a very long day
I woke up early, did some weeding, went out for coffee, walked over to the reservoir and circled it twice. On my second loop, I saw some people standing close to the fence and wondering aloud about the shiny-leaved vines twisting everywhere. "It's poison ivy," I called over my shoulder and kept walking. There were lots of dogs, mostly black labs, and the air was hot and heavy with the smell of cut grass. On my way home, I picked up a baguette, a ficelle, a pint of tomatoes, a slab of gorgonzola and a bottle of Sancerre. I cut basil from the flowerpots on the porch and made pesto. I started straightening my closet. In a little while, I'm going out with friends for dinner at a restaurant that just opened. I'm trying not to listen to the chant that echos just beneath the surface, slow and steady as a pulse: You will never be happy again. You will never be happy again. You will never be happy again. It's a fight I can't win.
13 comments:
Oh, Niobe, I hope that chant is wrong. Sometimes I hear it too.
It's easy to slip back there again, even years after being so terribly depressed and heartbroken. It becomes a habit of mind. But it is possible to curb it, if not break it. I promise.
Damn. I'm sorry. Wish I could help make it better.
I just discovered your blog, and it is some of the most erudite and poignant writing I have ever read.
I just suffered my second miscarriage in 8 months, and I fight that voice in my head, too. It started after the first miscarriage and has only gotten louder.
Niobe, I've been checking your blog for a week or so now (as I'm fairly new to this blogging community) and beg your forgiveness for being a bit dense and not getting what should really have been quite obvious. My heart goes out to you. I went back and read some of your first blogs, and I could just punch those people who have said to you that everything happens for a reason. I don't agree. I do believe there is a God, and I believe he mourns your loss with you, and that He did not choose this for you.
I hope that you can find some glimmers of hope and happiness, and I will continue to visit and try to walk this walk with you. I think it is very brave of you to be involved with the mommy blogging community. You ARE a mommy.
I wish this was all different for you, Niobe.
I hope some day you suddenly realize that the voice is not there because it has been defeated. I hear it too, although it hasn't been as loud lately. Possibly because I am too tired to listen?
((niobe)). I hope other voices rise in your head....
I wish I could shut up that voice for you.
I am sure it seems that way Niobe...like you will never be happy again. I am hopeful that it will lift like the fog someday and the sun will shine again for you. Glad you are walking.
Happy, sad, happy, sad ....
It will get a little better, eventually, don't kill me for saying that, it just does, a little, eventually.
XXX
Oh Niobe, I'm so sorry. You will never be the same again, but I hope very much that you will, some day, be happy again.
Yet another post long after the fact...
... but your description of your day nearly a year go was just the words I need today to get up, go for a walk, do something with our garden, and make a good lunch.
I so hope 'happy' has snuck back into your life. Though it might be a different flavour of happy, I wish it for you with all my heart...
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