Grief is a fickle bitch

Yea, I said it.
Grief is a fickle, conniving, manipulative, little bitch.
It strolls in all....hey girl, how YOU doin'..I promise I won't be psycho like last time.
And me, trying to extend kindness to all parties involved, sheepishly accept it back into my life.

But dudes, once it's here...it has only one job.
And that job is to throw your entire life into a tail spin.

It makes you do things and think things that are just crazy.
It makes you believe things you don't want to believe.
It starts giving you false hope, then snatches it away.
It starts to make you feel like you aren't good enough, fulfilled enough, worthy enough.

Well meaning words uttered from friends and loved ones, are met with vile, seething, hurtful responses.

Grief isn't you. It's your shitty alter-ego.

It isn't the kind, optimistic, let-the-little-stuff-slide-off-your-back, go-with-the-flow, practice gratitude person you normally are.

I can't even recall how many times I have apologized for ugly-crying around Mark recently.
I keep thinking how psycho and unsteady I look. Turning into a psychotic puddle of tears is no way to honor my half of this marriage.

Granted, I'm not lashing out on him.
I just constantly feel defeated.
Less than.
Over it.

So, I started jumping to rash conclusions.
This is why some of you may have seen me start posting about donor eggs, and why the fertility clinic now wants to set-up a consultation.
Because in my frantic, fragile state...I ignored my heart and assumed what I needed to feel better was my child. Any child. From ANY donor that even remotely resembles me.

These feelings make me start feeling frantic and out-of-control, incredibly similar to where I was just after my miscarriage. At the time, I felt so crazy I could have been easily persuaded to steal a baby from a hospital just to have one.

Grief makes me think crazy thoughts.
The difference between then and now, is I know and recognize they are insane thoughts.
They are not me.
And I can reign them in and basically just cry through them.
I know what I'm saying is not what I actually want and need in my life.
I really still am gun-ho about our baby being our DNA.

The part I need to work on, is truly accepting my life as whole if a baby never comes.
Right now, I think what I'm doing is slapping a bandage on that part.
I kept myself really, really busy with my bathroom renovation for a couple months.
And now that it's over, my brain wanders a lot, and starts mixing up reality with wishful thinking and it can get toxic, quick.

It's actually more exhausting going through 10 emotions in one day than renovating a bathroom or surviving an Orangetheory class.

So, what I can offer is...well...not a whole lot.
Grief DOES come back in waves, at weird times, and can take over your life.
People are GOING TO THINK YOU ARE CRAZY, because you are actually acting crazy, and if they love you and know what's going on, they will pet your hair and not offer advice.
And if they don't know what's going on, firmly tell them advice is not the answer.
Answers are not the answer, if that makes sense.
It's just a pile of emotions the grief-stricken person has to work through.
It does get better. Time makes it better.

You do hurt less. And you probably don't even realize it is less until someone else that has watched you wreak havoc on yourself can attest that...yes...this time was slightly less crazy than last time.

Outside of half-heartedly reaching out about donor options, and ignoring my heart on this one, I didn't drag us back to the fertility clinic.
I didn't ignore our ever-present debt to pile on more debt.
I didn't lock myself in a closet and scream-cry for hours.
I didn't hit my husband.
I didn't break a bunch of household items.
I didn't pop a vein in my eyeball.
And I didn't let it take over my life.

So, yes...grief is less these days. But it's still there. Lurking.
That fickle bitch will be back again, and I just have to hope I have more strength than yesterday.