Wednesday, April 8, 2009


Most days I think there is nothing more to say about the death of my daughter or that I do not have one original thought in regards to this grief. I am always one step away from deleting my blog completely, because it feels so indulgent, narcissistic, and I feel so vulnerable and exposed. Sometimes it depresses me, but you know, it's not like I am not already wallowing in it. It also gives me so much comfort some days, like I need an outlet for these pent up emotions...I am a little tea pot, and this is my steam.

I read blogs throughout the day when I steal a moment...and so often, the words other women write don't simply resonate, I read them with a kind of awareness of the universal truths of this process. Guilt. Anger. Hurt. Love. Pain. Suffering. Jealousy. Rage. I am not a unique snowflake. I am a mother in pain. We all are. And losing your is a kind of private cold hell that you carry in a bubble around you.

In an email to an old friend who I haven't talked to in a while, I wrote:

I am both drastically different, and exactly the same. I am exactly the same person living a drastically different life that looks exactly the same.

Somehow, I think this sums things up right now.


  1. I know how you feel. I don't have much to say myself. There are so many of us, and more being added to the list every day.
    What is there to say? Only that I'm sorry. Sorry for you, for me and everyone else on this journey, and those that will reluctantly join us one sad day.
    much love Lindsay

  2. I think the worst part about being different now, is that everyone wants the old you back and the old you is dead too. And it's hard to accept that some people won't like the new you because it is too painful to face every day.

    And please keep writing here. It's good for you and for us your readers. As you said, some people express their feelings better than others and I find you blog to be so articulate about this grief.

  3. i too feel like i say the same old things on my narcissistic little blog, and it's good to write, vent and know that we are all feeling the same things. this universal loss of our babies.

    i feel so different, and obviously such a different kind of different than i had imagined...

  4. You know, I remember saying to Alan right after all this went down that I was worried that in the end, I wouldn't come out of this more compassionate, more open, more appreciative- I would just be me, only with a suckier life. I think you said it better.

  5. I hear you Angie :)

    I love your blog. I love that you write your raw honest feelings. I understand that it can all be too heavy though.

    If you decide to delete your blog... export it first :)Just in case :)

    My love and warm wishes for you today x

  6. Yes. The same to look at but never the same again. x

  7. I recently came accross your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I dont know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.


  8. yes. that is it. exactly. (although I'm feeling how Dani phrased it too)


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