Thursday, June 28, 2007

Now that the lemonade has worn off...

Mental health update: I'm fine. The hard lemonade, the vent, the sobbing and the many kind words of encouragement and understanding from blogland and beyond helped immeasurably.

And here I am, two days later, still plugging along. Yeah, also still worried that I'm a little dull, but resigned to that fact because right now this is my life. Maybe in 5 years I'll have a fabulously interesting and wonderfully glamorous story to tell, but right now this is my story. And if I don't embrace it (what with it being my life and all) how on earth can I accept it and live it to the fullest?

So I'm back. And I'm okay.

Another thing that helped was having lunch with one of my oldest and, at the risk of sounding sappy which she'd hate, dearest friends yesterday. She's known me for, let's see, something like 30 years now. We were inseparable in grade two and we've stayed friends ever since.

She ran away to Halifax 10 years ago, but she comes home every so often, and when she does we have a standing date to go eat Greek food and talk until the restaurant kicks us out by way of repeated exasperated, dirty looks. Or until we suck all the oxygen out of the place and are forced to retreat to the outside world so we can breath again.

Which is exactly what we did yesterday.

There's something very soul-saving about being with friends who knew you when. She knows the old me. She knows the pre-tragedy, pre-sorrow, pre-infertility, pre-confused-about-God-and-life-and-my-place-in-the-world, Kristin. And she still gets me. Good God, after all that she still gets me.

While she hasn't lost a child, she has had more than her fair share of devastating tragedy to endure. Maybe that helps her deal with me, I don't know. Or maybe she's just one of those rare people who would be able to deal with me as beautifully and kindly as she does regardless of what she herself had been through.

We'll never know. All I know is that we can talk (and talk, and talk, and talk), and when we do it feels like coming home.

Interesting segue...

She's the one who wrote this (which you should TOTALLY buy, by the way. You can order it directly from the publisher (Invisible Publishing) easy as pie.)

Mmm. Pie. Order the book and read it with pie. There you go!

Thanks Stephanie. Thanks blogland friends. Thanks friends. Thanks Sandy. Thank you all.


delphi said...

I did read the book. And loved it. And believe that if I was friends with the author of such a great book, I would really look forward to spending time with her, too.

I am glad you are feeling a bit better. It comes and goes, doesn't it?


Rosepetal said...

I'm also glad you're feeling slightly better. An old friend came to visit me from the UK last weekend and I did feel better for it too.

Julia said...

Those are the kinds of friends that make it bearable enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I am so glad she was there for you at just the right time.
We're still here too.

Heather said...

Those friends are the best. I'm so glad you have her.

stephanie said...

Well now, a whole blog post all to myself? I'm blushing! My dude, it was, as it always is, a pleasure to use up a restaurant's worth of oxygen with you.
And I know you think you're all different now...but the truth is, you're the Kristin I've always known.
Oh, and Delphi, thanks for your kind words!

ms. G said...

You just had to say it, didn't you? PIE...I will not rest until I have some now. Here I am, just lurking around, I stumble upon your blog, and you mention pie. Yum. :)

I love reading and look forward to checking out your friends book.

I like also what you said about your life. I can relate. Not interesting, fabulous, or even happy really, but it's mine.