Safety net.

I realised tonight as I got ready for a for a friends birthday do that I haven’t been out for the last four months without my partner or at least one my two best friends, all of which know and unterstand what’s been going on in my head since October. 

I was seriously trying not to freak out and have an anxiety attack on the way there, I was shaking as I walked through the door, but I managed it and only hid in the bathroom when my hearing aid batteries ran out and I used it as an excuse to hibernate for ten minutes and text my other half.

I find grief incredibly isolating, especially when surrounded by people I went to highschool with, who are happy and drunk and dancing and wanting me to be the same. 

There wasn’t anybody to turn too when I felt everything a little too keenly, or when the idea of being in a room with a whole load of people who had no clue about the last year of my life made me want to puke. At school there is my female best friend, at home there is my partner who’se only a phone call away, and then there’s our joint best friend who checks in on us both to make sure we’re alright when he knows I or my partner have had a rough day (like friday, because their D and D night was disrupted by my mealtdown and he mede sure we knew we could talk to him. He’s a real sweetheart).

Everyone kept offering me alcohol and I got seriously sick of saying ‘no, not even a cider.’ I have fun sober, I am fun sober.  I don’t drink anyway, and I know that if I did now I would get drunk enough so that I couldn’t see, but even then I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t help, however tempting a prospect; so I’m not touching anything alcoholic unless I can trust myself. Which I highly doubt will be any time soon. Alcohol and I don’t mix well. Besides it messes with my meds.

I ate a cold chicken nugget though, which was about as wild as it got. Flashback to primary school discos much… I danced though, I haven’t danced for what seems like a very long time.

It was good despite everything; and now I know I can do it on my own, even if it does feel like high wire walking without a safety net. 

It’s progress, even if it feels slow, and I have to remind myself to let myself feel because there isn’t a time limit on when I have to be ‘back to normal’ because that normal doesn’t exist anymore. I think we feel so much pressure to be ‘normal’ all the time, and normal doesn’t exist, especially after loss.

Love and support always, 

Surviving Miscarriage Together x 

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