I'm really good at hiding my emotions. It's a gift, really, received from my dad's side of the family. Well, a gift and a curse, depending on who you're talking to. Don't show them your weakness. It could be used against you later in life. Pretend like everything is just fine, and eventually it will be.
It has been brought to my attention that this pregnancy has diminished my patience and my vocal inhibitions to almost nothing. That means that I say what I'm thinking as soon as I'm thinking it and, as bad as that already is, the things I'm saying aren't necessarily the nicest things I could come up with. And that means I have hurt some people's feelings in the last few months. Some I knew I had hurt immediately after opening my mouth; others I found out about after comments were made when I wasn't around. I can't really say which is more horrifying, because they both sting and make me incredibly ashamed of myself. And there's a part of me that wants to say, "Well, it's the truth; maybe you should just get thicker skin." And that, of course, is the root of the problem in the first place - my lack of ... sympathy? ... patience? ... something.
When I look back at this year, all I can think is one word -- terrible. Yes, yes, I know, I'm bringing life into the world, I know. It's a gift, and one for which I am so grateful that it brings me to tears. All I can think is that this baby is going to be a much-needed respite of joy in the midst of a pretty crappy time. But the realist in me is trying hard not to get too excited, because that's a lot of pressure to put on a baby. No one -- especially not a baby -- should be expected to turn things right again. That's something on the Lord and time can do.
Things since April have just been ... wrong. Compounding the sickness with a deeper depression than I've had in years and other issues of which I have absolutely no control whatsoever, and the whole year just seems like a colossal disaster. It wasn't, of course, but that's what it feels like now. And I have internalized everything in ways I thought I had resolved. If I tried to explain it all to you, I can almost guarantee you would ask me to stop talking, or at least look really uncomfortable and have nothing to say other than, "Wow. I'm sorry," because that has been the reaction of almost everyone I have tried to talk to about it. I feel like an idiot even saying it all out loud because it sounds so amazingly absurd. So I don't talk about it much. It's easier, really, and less stressful for those not involved.
But then... I end up saying something rude to someone who doesn't deserve it. Because I have no patience whatsoever for things that, at that specific moment, seem trivial to my twisted, distracted mind. It's like there's no more room to be polite. Which is odd, because I feel like most of the time I am polite to a fault. It's just been a rough year, and I don't know what else to say about it. Some of it is getting better, and some of it is permanently damaged, and I have no idea what the future holds. But all of it is enough to bring me to my knees on a daily basis, and can make me break down sobbing at any time, anywhere. And it has.
I fully realize that this is not an excuse for my behavior. But it is a reason. And if you are one of the people to whom I have been rude, I am sincerely sorry. I hope you'll forgive me. But I also ask that you give me a little bit of wiggle room. There is so much going on in my head this year that I don't have room to think about your feelings, and I am sorry for that, too. I will do my best not to put my problems on you in the future. And maybe, just maybe, having this baby will give me another gift -- the gift of my patience back, if nothing else.
And that's all I have to say about that.
No comments:
Post a Comment