I don't leave the house.
I rarely get out of bed before noon.
There was a time when I took somewhere between 8,000 and 10,000 steps a day. I know, because I have a step counter I used to put in my pocket just to give me an idea how active I was being... but I haven't used it since William died.
This week, I found it and put it in my pocket, just for chucks and giggles.
Do you know how many steps I averaged a day this week?
600
That's not a typo. That's six hundred, not six thousand.
It doesn't just feel like everything has stopped... it really has. I'm not going anywhere, I'm not doing anything. It's three in the afternoon on a Saturday, I haven't showered or eaten, and I'm still in a dark room sitting on my bed doing basically nothing.
I thought I knew what depression looked like before this happened.
I had no idea.
12 comments:
Oh Inanna... I really believe that at this stage, less than 2 months after losing William, that one step at a time is good enough. Lots of love x
This is grief. I didn't leave the house for nearly two months after Ezra died. And for two months after that, when I did leave, I came home only to resume my spot in bed with my laptop. Be gentle with yourself, its not been very long since your sweet William went away.
oh yes, I know and perplexed that it feels like that still, these days.
much love
Ines
600 a day sounds like plenty to me at this stage.
Inanna ~ I didn't leave the house for 2 months. I curled in the fetal position on the couch and watched baseball for the entire summer. It was the only thing that helped me cope and kept my mind 'occupied' enough to have small intermittent breaks from the constant sobbing. I'm sorry you're in this dark, terrible place right now. I am thinking of you and wishing you peace in the days ahead. xxoo, Babette
Isn't horrible to see it "quantified?"
When my inlaws were about to leave (after taking are of us for a month) for two weeks, I planned my day out on my calendar. Like, 'shower' 'cook dinner' 'dust' 'organize photos' 'walk dog' etc. I found that I needed everything planned out the week before or I couldn't make a decision or get started. I am surprised I could even decide if I needed to piss.
Grief bites.
But you are taking steps and that is all that matters. More steps will come.
Please hang in there and know that all of us are sending you hugs!
It's still hard to get myself out of bed, even 9 months after losing my son. It takes alot of convincing and force to get me motivated to do anything. I have to take things minute by minute sometimes, and even that its hard to do. That is grief. I make no excuses, that is just all I know how to do, for now.
I'm proud of you for the 600 steps. In the early days, I couldnt even get out of bed. I still dont want to, but I feel like I have to... That the babies live through me and so I have to live... But that was a long time coming and it still hurts.
One step at a time. One day at a time. That's all you can do. And William will be there each step of the way.
please hang in there, inanna. and don't put pressure on yourself to take more steps until you are ready. physiologically you are very much postpartum and the hormones will do a number on you. postpartum + grief = scary. let your body rest.
i rarely left the bed or couch for the first 6 weeks. i tried to have friends or family here every day - to bring me food and watch videos. sometimes we didn't even talk about what had happened. we just lay there and watched tv. sometimes i made them drive me to a coffee shop just so i could practice leaving the house. eventually i could manage to drive to my sister's place and sit on her couch instead. so i could be still and stopped. but not be alone.
it's grief. we are all sitting in the dark with you. if you get scared, please call someone to come and sit shiva with you.
I agree with everyone else, Inanna. 600 steps is a whole lot of walking for this stage of your grief.
As others have said, this sounds totally normal. DH dragged me out of bed for a "coffee walk" most mornings, but without his motivation I probably would have stared at the ceiling all day long. When he went back to work, I'd walk him to the train and continue on myself. But when I returned home, I'd sit on the porch steps and stare into space. I just couldn't get to the next step of getting in the shower. If I showered by early afternoon, I considered that a good day. I eventually put my pedometer back on and slowly built my step count back to 10,000 because I was determined to lose the weight in order to get pg again. But it took awhile to get to that point.
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