This journey has changed me. I wish I could describe it - but, I can only convey each day's challenges and the reactions to them. I can't tell people how my soul feels like it's been twisted and wrung out. I can't describe the anxious, nervous, bone-scraping feeling I get trying to communicate with other people now.
I have a tribe that I can talk to - sort of. I have one person in my tribe that I can communicate with incredibly effectively. And my husband, of course. But when I have to talk to strangers, I get -- itchy in my bones. I slip into the plaster mold that I've constructed for myself in the last few years and just get through the interaction.
I probably look completely weird, and utterly fake. Otherwise, I get caught off-guard -- by simple things. Silly things. The other week, I was at a social function with friends. We were seated at a table with strangers. Initially, I was terrified - but I quickly relaxed and realized any conversation would be centered on the function, and not on getting to know each other on a personal level.
Somehow, "How many kids do you have?" flew out of someone's mouth and *thunked* through my throat and into my heart. Like a well-placed arrow. I panicked, and said one.
Then I sobbed inside of my emotional plaster cast, because I felt like I betrayed my boy. I wanted to be strong enough to say that I have two children -- but this would lead to more questions, and I wasn't emotionally prepared to open up to strangers that evening.
I know, one day at a time. But it's frustrating.
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