Containable

I had this idea that a year or so into this journey I would feel more like sharing certain things....things about the day we buried him and the really difficult days that followed that.  Somehow, I thought I would be "ready" to talk about that part.  Instead, my feelings have taken a different path.  The longer I miss Eli and the less I feel the need to share everything.  

In the beginning, I started blogging about Eli and our experiences to avoid having to call everyone with updates.  I was too exhausted to have an interaction with everyone, but knew that there were people who cared and I wanted them to know what was going on...physically.  Then, for some reason, which I don't totally understand, because I am sort of a private person, I wanted to share so much of what was going on...emotionally.  It felt like an escape for me. My feelings were so overflowing and uncontrolled and for some reason, it felt necessary to share these things.  It is strange because I feel a certain amount of anonymity with I write...like no one knows who I am....which, again, doesn't make a ton of sense because people that I do I know read my words.  I'm sure people who read this have a reaction, but I usually don't hear about it or see it, so it feels like this safe little place where I don't have to measure responses and be calculated about what I say.  And I think reading something, in the quiet of your own mind makes you feel something different than a face to face interaction.  Anyways....somehow I have felt safe sharing things that I can't believe I would share.  

In the early months (when I say this I should probably clarity that the "early days" could be defined as 9 or 12 months or so... ha! It still feels like the "early days" sometimes because I can remember events and dates so vividly and this journey was entirely unknown to me before). Anyways...in the "early days" I would tell anyone who would listen, willingly or unwillingly, exactly how I felt that day and why.  I felt like I needed people to help me carry this weight that felt too large and much too heavy for one person to carry.  I couldn't have an interaction without talking about Eli and if I did have an interaction where we didn't talk about him, it was devastating.  I couldn't handle it.  My grief was spilling everywhere...no way to contain it and sharing was so necessary and therapeutic.

As time has gone on, I don't feel that need all the time.  I can talk to someone about something light and be perfectly okay with it.  (Or I can pretend I am okay with it and that is something).  I feel much more selective about what I share and who I share it with and am almost aghast at what I said to people before.  I don't feel like everyone needs or should know about Eli.  It is much too sacred.  Sometimes I wish I could move, so that no one knows about Eli and I can tell who I want and keep him a little closer to my heart.  

There are still things that are very hard for me to think about.  I can't even imagine writing about them and I certainly wouldn't right now (or maybe ever).  I feel perfectly content with this.  Some things are too beautiful and sacred or difficult and raw to share.  I don't feel the need to anymore and that is reassuring somehow...because that is the ME I am used to.