I’m not really sure how to start this. It’s been a while since I’ve shared here, cutting myself open and revealing the most intimate details of what makes me who I am. It’s been on my heart, though… sharing. Someone I trust and confide in unknowingly confirmed that this is what I should be doing. So here I am.
What good are the struggles we survive and challenges we overcome if no one ever sees the glory in our victories? How can we embolden others when they don’t know what we’ve endured to get where we are? Portraying perfection in yourself only causes others to feel inadequate. Believe me, I know.
I’m consistent in the habit of comparing myself to people around me. However, my insecurities do not lie in my appearance, but in the fundamental fabric that defines me as a person... my feelings of inadequacy, unworthiness, uselessness... They are so much deeper than satiating a diffidence of my physical aesthetics that sometimes it causes palpable pain to unearth these timidities and face them head on. Most times, I choose to concede to them, feeling the pain bluntly beating inside me, but deep enough that I can pretend they don’t exist. Until one day, the pressure becomes too great, the delicate barrier that detains it begins to wane, and all those trifling, seemingly insignificant insecurities become mountains that I cannot get over.
The only way to prevent this from happening is the gradual release of pressure so it never reaches a terminal force. How does one do this? Sharing. Talking. Trusting. Confiding.
One more thing that I think is absolutely necessary in this healing process is transparency. (This, will most definitely be a challenge for me.)
I’m going to put things out here that I don’t even like acknowledging myself.
But, I’m tired of doing this alone, feeling like no one else knows what I’m going through.
I know I am not the only person that has lost a child (albeit mine was in utero).
I know I’m not the only person who has had to grieve with no support, feeling that when people say, “Oh, you’ll be okay, you’ll get through it” was more of a dagger through my heart than someone acknowledging the loss.
I know I am not the only person to suffer depression so quietly that people are shocked when they find out you aren’t sitting on rainbows and riding unicorns everyday of your life.
I know I’m not the only person to feel betrayed by the people closest to them because in their own grieving, they retreated and left you alone.
So, I will share.. Not to edify, but to encourage. I don’t have a magic potion that makes grief disappear. There are no essential oils to melt away feelings of worthlessness. I've found no mantras to instantly calm anxiety. I don’t know how to unbreak myself or anyone else. But, I do know that knowing I’m not the only one will give me strength to keep searching for answers and keep persevering toward joy, forgiveness and wholeness.
October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I’m thinking it’s a good time for me to start thinking, talking, remembering this traumatizing event in my life and finally, after 5 years of suffering, begin to heal.
Did you know?
- One in four pregnancies ends in the loss of a baby
- The loss of a child is recognized as the most intense cause of grief
- Parents never “get over” the loss of a child – no matter the age or stage
- Parents experiencing grief without supportive care can have debilitating consequences such as PTSD, depression and anxiety and could further result in job loss, divorce, difficulties in daily living, or impediments with parenting of living children.