It surprised me that I managed to write my post about miscarrying with such a nonchalant air. I could easily say it's okay now, I got my baby. But it feels strange that I no longer mourn the loss of the other pregnancies as I once did. I mean, I felt and still feel as if that was a loss of life, a loss of opportunity. But when I speak about it, it's as if I'm telling someone else's story. Not mine. Thus it's very easy to be nonchalant.
That's a rather creepy thought.
I have a horrible defense mechanism. I stop caring.
People have done some pretty bad things to me. Ones I counted as my closest friends have turned their back on me in some bad ways. Where I was once attached at the hip to one person, I now feel nothing at all.
I cut my feelings off. I can really make believe that you simply DO NOT and never did exist. As for how I do it... I couldn't tell you.
It's rather bothersome, however. You can only run so long until things catch up to you. I guess my goal is to keep running right on into the new system. I don't ever want it to catch up to me. At this point, the things I've buried have become an avalanche, and I feel like it's right on my heels. I'm halfway afraid to look over my shoulder, for fear I may stumble, and it might catch me.
That's surely no way to live. But it's working so far.
People think I'm strong to have survived some of the things I've survived and still be moving. But I'm not. Not even. Far from it. I'm a flipping coward.
That's a humbling thought.
Enough self reflection. Gotta keep running. Any more deep thinking, and I might implode.