Monday, November 29, 2010

alone in other people's houses [caff version 2.0]

the world resumed. im catching up.

sneaking around this room and house, i think about time. time has been creeping. usually by now its oh snap hello 2012 and im thinking oh shit i dont have time to prepare for the apocalypse. usually its been years and ive been in a coma lost in drink fallen in and out of relationships and somehow in another home. changes. they slip by me. really i dont care enough to pay attention. usually i can be ok with this. ive had a lot of time to think about things. and boy oh boy there has been a lot to think about. in between cigarette cravings and coffee breaks i embrace the trigger. fall back to the day, when i sat clutching my chest, grabbing blindly for his hand, and walking upstairs to grow old in 45 minutes. there is always a trigger.
here i pause and wipe dust from this computer screen. turn to the tv, think about the other universe/dimension where this is not what im doing. where this person is me but not me. maybe i have long hair, maybe i dont have freckles, maybe i dont have this dull nagging pain in my lower stomach. maybe im talking to her right now. its hard to convince yourself that insanity is bad, when you can grab the world and shake it there, change it, find what you need and without hesitating you can give in. crazy people, really crazy people blink in and out of reality. maybe im jealous. maybe im done with all this stability. for all 7 months i had it, it was all for nothing. maybe. i dont know. this may just be one of my not so good days. the other night the boy i love leaned me against a car and begged me to come back, wake up, realize that all is not lost and for the life of me i couldnt even nod. i looked up into his face and wanted to be asleep. still with him, but not really.
there is so much to live for. so much to stay for. i just have to hold onto those things. its been exactly 20 days. maybe its just too early.
you dont want to be a crazy person steph. with your luck youll end up one of those trapped in their head in a little room with windows and no doors. womp.
i laugh, i touch, i talk, i sleep, and i have goals.
that cant be as bad as it feels, i cant be guilty for living for the rest of my life. she would probably be frustrated, watching me run in circles and talking myself out of things. i just wish i could hear her voice... just once.
aaaahhh impossible things we need so deeply. impossible.
up and down, this blog is brain vomit.
i need to finish cleaning.
need to move.
pfffffff........ thanks monday.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


i have much of it.

when does everything stop hurting, for real.

i need so much for a few quiet moments. but there is so much static and crackling im sure its too late. must have missed the window.

Friday, November 12, 2010

and the world started to break apart

everything hurts. i need to do this. writing has always created something special in me, maybe taken away from the physical social thing, but something.
but right now im not sure, im not sure what will help.
im shaking loose, my mind is literally falling out of my eyes and nose, my heart... my poor fucking heart is beating a thousand times per second, too hard too fast. i went into the hospital last thurs day via an ambulance, excited and a little scared. water broken, pain coming, baby coming. i was praying on the hightway, EMTs talking to the back of my head. i thought everything was going to be ok. now. im at my sisters house. and i dont have a baby. i have a crooked painful cut on my stomach staples marching downward, i have a sore back, i have a hysterectomy, i have a cracked mind. i have a bag full of tiny blankets, knitted tiny beanies, tiny shoes, tiny everything. and still i have nothing. my arms have nothing.
my baby was tiny. she was barely there. she was mostly tubes, laying in a plastic box. and everything was wrong.
the doctors said she was sick. alot of words, but once he said the word 'fatal' i shut down. i reached for her fathers hands and let go of whatever sanity and hope i had left.
these things happen in the world everyday. but i dont care or give a crap about that. the things i would say to someone if the situation was reversed are meaningless. they bounce off me. the hole in my chest doesnt want to be filled. im so angry. my family calls and i dont answer. i dont want them to be sad for me or offer comfort. its almost like the nails waiting for me to decide im ready to start in with the hammer. it would be a tiny coffin. i dont think im ever going to be ready. i had a daughter, me, i was so ready for this little girl. my whole being was being poured into her growth, her happiness.. her life. and i had her for 5 days.
i honestly dont know what to do.
i try to go out, and i wake up heavy with guilt.
when i laugh something twitches as if to say, thats not fair.
i kiss my man and i think about what it would have been like to giggle with her about boys.
i repeat, everything hurts.
grief is a funny thing. sadness, anger, and other steps that seem much less prominent or important right now. i want my friends to be there, but i feel like a burden, a crying mess, a wreck.
nothing is working right. losing a child was not in my plans, my life has been this feeling over and over and ill be honest im fucking tired. i cant lose anyone else! where is the lesson? what was i supposed to learn? that i am strong enough to take my tiny baby off life support, let her father hold her while she died, wait in a little well decorated room for the nurse to bring her in after, so i could actually hold her? i wanted to feel her warmth, smell her skin, talk to her so she would look at me. not hold a small dead child wrapped in beautiful blankets and stumble through a cracked and difficult goodbye. this wasnt fair this wasnt fair this wasnt fair. oh, and they took my uterus too so i cant ever carry a child again mid C section? awesome, whats the lesson there? that i should buy some slamming jeans? my baby and my chances to do it again are basically gone. my sister tells me she'll carry my future children, but i miss my stomach, looking down and touching it, looking funny but womanly in my clothes.
fuck. this is something else man. i tell you im just not sure what happened.
pouring out feels better. i need it, since i cant really talk to people right now. the small group im hiding in, well they protect me, watch me, love me. but i want to sneak away and punch something, draw blood, scream.
psh. for now all i can do is write this and chug coffee. her blanket is here, i touch it often. it smells like the hospital, i wish it would hold the smell forever.

i miss you, baby. Alastair. piece of me.

back to the chaos. a little lighter though, thankfully.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

the efforts

I'm laying in bed with my cell phone pouring data and my brain is flying. Everything is too fast right now. Why can't I just take a pause and settle in some sweet quiet black for a while? I want it. Please?