After I read the book "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee", I felt pretty depressed. After I visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., I was bummed out for two days. But this is personal. This is one of the hardest losses I've ever had to deal with. It's been four weeks, and I'm still crying everyday. It's the first time I've ever taken anti-depressants. The anti-depressants allow me to function, so I don't wallow in depression, but they do not numb the pain. I still have my feelings, and I still have my sadness. Sometimes I just feel like I want to bury my broken heart.
I can't tell you how many times I've listened to Tracy Chapman's song "Remember the Tinman" over the last couple of weeks. I've been really resonating with the whole theme of losing your heart. Yesterday, I paused to reflect on these two lines at the end of the song that caught my attention:
"And remember the Tin Man
found he had what he thought he lacked.
Remember the Tin Man,
Go find your heart and take it back!"
A part of me looks at having a baby as fulfilling a part of my life that is empty. I feel deficient for not having children. Maybe the part of me that feels empty will still feel empty even after I have a child? Or maybe what I am seeking in having a child I have already? I know it's my ego telling me that I'm deficient and that I must have a child to make my life whole, but intellectual knowing and feeling like crap are two different things.
The repetitive negative thoughts get in the way of my grieving process. When the thoughts keep rolling over and over like the hamster on the wheel, I have to consciously stop them, take a deep breath, feel my heart, and that is when the tears come, again and again.
14 hours ago