What's going on.
Readers have asked me to write about Blogher, but I can't. I didn't have the BlogHer experience I wanted to have, and I can't pretend I did, and if I tried to relay my experience I don't think anyone would believe I was at the same conference as all those other amazing people who had such a great time. Because my experience had nothing to do with the conference, it had to do with me. There's something not right in here, and I don't know what the problem is.
What I know is that I'm filled with grief all the time, that I have tried the patience of my friends and family, that I have been less of a mother and wife than I want to be, that I'm terrified that I'm driving away the people I love, that I've barely eaten since I returned. I am sure anyone who saw me at BlogHer will be baffled by this post, because I do an excellent job of hiding in plain sight. But since then something has broken open, and I can't hide. Right now I wish more than anything I could take back the decision to go to this conference, take back the last few months, start over and give you whatever you're here looking for, the anecdote or joke or relief from your day that you probably expect, instead of this sopping mess who's struggling to compose these crappy paragraphs. Even writing this seems awful and self-indulgent, but if I can't be honest here and get this out I will never write here again. I'm barely hanging on, and I'm trying to make sense of what happened to me. Of what's still happening to me.
Please be patient with me as I try to get to the other side of this. I know I will, but getting there means wading through a stunning level of pain and I don't like it one bit.










July 24, 2008
Reader Comments (324)
I wanted to thank meg Hatton for her comment. I never thought of our Western views on pain in such a way. Definitely some thing to think about for me. Grieve but learn to let go as well, hmmm. Thank you.
I'm sorry I'm no good at giving comfort but I wish you love and healing Alice.
I haven't been reading very long, but I feel like I know you. I know that you're an incredibly strong woman and I know you can do this. You will not be given more than you can handle. Just keep working through today and eventually you'll be past it. And write about whatever the hell you need to. We're all a community, and while sometimes life is funny, some times is it not. You write about life. That's what we want to read.
Sending my love and prayers.
Saying you'll feel better eventually probably means very little when you're in the midst of what you're going through. Intellectually, you might know it to be true, but you feel what you feel, and it's hard to imagine not feeling that way.
I suffered a variety of bouts of depression while going through fertility treatments, losing one of my twins very early on, and then post-partum depression with both of my pregnancies. The emotional part makes sense to me--these things are sad and hard for many women. Yet why am I taking it so much harder than others seem to be? What I took a lot of comfort in was understanding the biological and chemical aspect of what was going on, and was potentially contributing to why I couldn't seem to come out the other side. Reading Women's Moods: What Every Woman Must Know About Hormones, the Brain and Emotional Health by Deborah Sichel, MD was really helpful for me.
I hope you feel better soon.
Wishing you peace and an easier journey. Good thoughts to you and hope for brighter days.
Loss is hard - and quite honestly, it sucks. I've never been pregnant, never miscarried, but suffered loss. I don't know exactly where you are, but in any case, at one time I was pretty much next door.
And its okay to feel the way you do.
Hang in there :)
Maybe this is the time to use your blog to heal yourself, and not think about every word to see if it's going to win awards or make you popular.
Maybe this is your body's way of telling you that if you don't take care of YOU, you won't be able to take care of anyone else.
Whatever the case, we're all pulling for you and we'll still be here when you get your groove back.
- M