It's been one month

And things are getting back to normal. But I don't feel the same drive in things that interest me. Though I have regained old ones.

My sensitive nature has been shook. It wasn't the miscarriage. It was something else entirely, that came out of it. because I dared to face it head on. Unlike any time Ive been faced with grieving before.

I shut down when my brother disappeared and was later found dead. But rather than focus on me and how i was coping I was petrified to lose anyone else that I tried to save my family. And it slowly killed my spirit. And it triggered my over active nervous system, i became anxious and depressed, I took the meds to make me better, but instead of better they made me manic. I was diagnosed with bipolar 2. and later with Bipolar 3 (medication triggered bipolar) I am so much better without them.

when my aunt passed I didnt go to her funeral because I said goodbye in the hospital, but not six months later I had to remind myself she had passed over and over.

My dad I mourned six ways from Tuesday, before he even died. He was a shell of himself most of the time I was alive. Since his dad passed away before i was even a glimmer in anyone's eye. he would be ok for a bit then regress into anger and lashing out.

He only got how he treated us when he lived with a woman who was very similar to him. But he gave up on life and killed himself with food. (heart attack and diabetes)

I watched my parents during the loss of my brother.

I watched my brother when he lost his best friend to cancer at age 7, I watched his parents deal with the loss, and then not a year later I watched them again when their younger son died. I watched when my 7 year old cousin died in his sleep and saw how my uncle handled the loss. He was lost in grief. And it took him a long time to begin come to terms.

With my sensitive nature I feel the feelings or the energy in the room. I feel all of it magnified, I take it on. even if its not mine to take.

I will feel the anger, I will feel the fear, I will feel the sadness, I will feel the love, the excitement. Often I don't know what to do with all the extra information. I have to notice the thoughts and the feelings and accept that they are there. I have to work hard to see if it was my own feeling or a stolen one. This is why I am so against projecting feelings onto others. you never know who in the room is emotionally sympathetic and will take on all that you have to give, and it will get you no closer to healing. all it will do is make someone almost as miserable as you feel.

I am facing it head on but I fear the situation that came of it has derailed the healing and I am now focassing on that more than on anything else, much like when I had PPD/PTSD after the birth of my first. and I lost friends due to it, because I was just being me. I am "a person like that" whatever that sweeping blanket statement really means. It's more saying you're not like me I don't understand you and I won't try. With the ppd I didn't attach to my first child until she was close to two, she was also delayed and still is. I still mourn the loss of a healthy child, I mourn the loss of a healthy birth experience, I mourn the loss of a healthy pregnancy. I mourn the loss of the child I had envisioned, but she was still here. I would forget I had a child unless she was with me at all times.

I stayed with the friend who told me i was just being me and i was a "person like that" there was a lot of yelling in the home, and it triggered me and brought me back to my childhood, the yelling the I am not good enough, I will always be like that messages I got from my parents. They told their son very similar things. I got lost in that world of fear and self loathing. It was my experience I tried to explain but could not bring myself to say to a military wife that I was having flashbacks and i wasn't judging her. I wasn't in her home I was in my childhood home being emotionally abused by a figment that wasn't there. It didn't help her home looked much like a family friends house growing up. that week changed my ptsd flashbacks went from that of the birth and almost losing my life and my baby's life to my childhood and losing a friend I desperately wanted to get closer to. I beat myself up for not speaking up and trusting myself enough to say it right. So I decided I would rather be hated and dropped than make things worse. I lost my friend who I expected support from. I tortured myself thinking I could have said what I was actually going through rather than accept I was in fact "a person like that" so that's what i was. I was "like that"

I am passionate about people and causes, I tend to be idealistic and I tend to bring myself through the ringer any chance I get. I judge me. and often in conversing the judgment shows and I am my worst critic. I do my best to not judge others and if i do I reflect on where that is coming from and often its because I judge me (and my parents). I have impossibly high standards on myself. I cannot live up to them and don't expect it of others. It would be a fools errand.

things are getting back to normal. but I lost a piece of myself even after I found how strong I was, one interaction shook me down. Sometimes its better to be flexible like bamboo than as strong as oak. I long for the middle ground.