yeah, that's THIS post. It's the post I've been avoiding, dodging if you will. I don't want to face it, talk about it, or deal with it. Even though it's come and gone, I still don't want to actually acknowledge the fact that we had a BIG.DAY. Without our daughter, without our child, who easter should have been all about this year. Of course it was all about Lucy as well, but it should have been the big FIRST for Ariana.
The first without her.
The day did not go well. Not for me anyway. If I'm honest with myself, I hated it. Every measly second. Even while my smile was pasted on my face, even while i ran, chasing Lucy on the Easter egg hunt, even while we oohed and aahed over the easter bunnies gifts, and those from family and friends, I hated it.
I hate feeling like this. I hate that I was so sad on a day that is supposed to be filled with joy. I hate that by mid afternoon I was in tears, desperately trying to be happy for my daughter. I hate that by that night I needed a drink.
I never need a drink. Needing a drink worries me, It's not how I deal with things. It's why I came home from hospital without pain meds, without sleeping tables, without drugs to alter, or enhance my mood. It's because I know I can get addicted. Easily.
Even in the "dead baby haze", I knew enough about myself to refuse offers of tablets to get me through. I knew I needed to face things head on. Yet, that night, I turned to alcohol.
I feel like I let myself down. Like I failed, myself and my family. Especially my daughters, both of them.
Easter was awful. I hope I never have another "special" day as miserable as that one ended up being.
For everyone's sake.