I thought about what I said in yesterday’s post… I even contemplated taking the whole thing down. Maybe “lost” is a better word for what I’m feeling. Alone is certainly something that I feel often. But, like absolutely everything else in my life right now, I am doubting it. I doubt what others are interpreting from my actions, my feelings, my words… I doubt that there isn’t a person, not even my mom, Aimee my best friend, or even Chris, that I haven’t either made feel uncomfortable or disappointed in some way as of late. I think that I seem to be “better”, but really, I know better. The other day, sweet Aimee told me that I seem like my old self, that I seem back to normal… oh my dear friend, how can I express to you how far from normal I really am? I don’t even know myself anymore, no one really knows me anymore. I question if I am even a person worth knowing anymore. I am sad, depressed, lonely, and pitiful. I am trying in vain to overcome a loss that I can never overcome. I am grieving what I will NEVER get back. I am vulnerable, I feel weak, I feel like I have lost my grip. I am floating in a sea of uncertainty, and sometimes, I think drowning would be a preferable option over floating in this body of a person that I no longer know, living the life of a person who’s become a stranger to me. I feel like an imposter. I am no longer myself, I am someone else. Yet, I continue to live in the life of Jess, Jessi, Mrs. O… how have I been able to fool everyone else?

I will take a moment to assure the reader that I am indeed “okay” for all intents and purposes… I am not going anywhere, but my goodness I feel so LOST. I feel like I have lost my ability to relate to others, to relate even to myself. I am not the same, and I wonder daily if I will ever feel anything other than lost for the rest of my life. That I have changed irrevocably is an understatement… I have changed, and I don’t know if I like who I’ve turned into. Maybe feeling lost simply turns into feeling alone, and I think that’s what I was trying in vain to articulate yesterday. And the loneliest part is that I know being lost, lost like this, is the part of it that no one else can understand unless they’ve been there themselves, in my exact situation. Losing my baby at full term, holding her while she was merely alive on life support, being able to smell her scent and feel the slight yet solid weight of her in my arms… then losing her… when I think of the acute misery of it all, I want to combust into a million pieces of nothing. What can make a person whole after that?

Maybe I’m not totally alone, but dammit, I am so lost.