Listen (verb): Take notice of and act on what someone says; respond to advice or a request
I’ve felt so low this week. I had to message my boss earlier to say “really sorry, I’m logging off, this week is just too hard.”
Launching the blog has been so emotionally draining. The response has been very positive, but really overwhelming. Lots of people have been in touch to share their experiences, which has been incredible, but it’s also really tough. Ideally I’d like to be everywhere, for everyone, but my heart is near bursting. Please bear with me.
The bruth of the matter is, though the text messages have been encouraging, I know that they’re fleeting. When Summer passed away, there was a similar flurry of messages, so I’ve been transported back to that time, and that’s been hard.
Since Summer, some of the initial offers of support have been maintained, but the vast majority have faded away. The realisation that this will happen again, has also been difficult. (I’m wondering why I rocked the boat! For someone so considered, I didn’t consider that).
In case it’s not yet been made clear:
Grief is so lonely.
I find the grief particularly tough during the day, during the hours when I’m by myself and most people (including my husband) are at work. Which is pretty unfortunate timing.
People often say “you can call me, any time”, but that’s not true. Real life doesn’t work like that, so I never actually know who I can call.
This week I felt very close to messaging friends to ask them to give me slots for when they’re usually free to chat. I thought I could draw up a timetable, so I can always know who’s around, when. Upon reflection, that’s a bit needy, isn’t it? Although, I am in need.
I think part of the reason for launching a blog was wanting to be heard. In all ‘bruthfulness’ though, I’ve been surprised about how few people have actually subscribed to hear more. It’s made me feel like people were curious or nosy enough to, essentially, read my diary, but that they don’t care enough to follow through with the journey. (Speaking to R who’s been through baby loss, she reflected similarly – once people knew how she lost her babies, they didn’t check in again). I never thought about how that aspect would make me feel. It’s actually left me a bit heartbroken. It’s a form of rejection, I guess. On the upside though, this subject matter (or writing style, probably!) isn’t to everyone’s taste, so it’s great that people gave me their time and read as much as they did.
So thank you. To everyone who has commented on this blog so far, your words have been so encouraging; I’m sure I’ll revisit them time and again. And special thanks to those readers who have subscribed, it’s reminded me that you’re still here and that you’re continuing to listen.