Wounded and Bleeding

Some days are so painful that I have to retreat, and not say anything online.

I never can figure out exactly what makes those days so terrible.  I'm sure there's a trigger in there somewhere, but it's not always very visible.

Winter time is often hard. It is gray, and cold, and especially here in New England there is not a lot of social activity to be involved in...at least not that I have found to do.

I am also recognizing that many of my painful memories happened in the winter.
My grandfather died in December.
My grandmother died in October.
My baby brother who died was born in January.
I lost my first baby in November.
We have made two long, hard moves in November and December, setting us up for a LONG winter of no friends in a new area.

A new friend mentioned a term to me this week that really made a lot of sense of what I have been dealing with this past year..."PCS blues".  She said that this move, to this base, has been the worst one for her, that the blues have been worse here than anywhere else she has gone.

I agree...this move HAS been worse for me.  I left behind a child, a house that we had bought, two churches full of amazing friends, a community that we had been part of for 7 years, to move to a place I really didn't want to be, in December, arriving just in time to have no money for Christmas, no time to put up decor, and no friends to invite us to do anything.

In the past year, it HAS gotten better, but it is still hard.  I miss my friends.  I miss my son.  I miss having a purpose, a job, or at least the potential to find one.

So, some days, the hard, the suck, catches up to me, and I have to retreat for a while, and lick my wounds.  I can see that those wounds are healing some, not bleeding quite so much, but I'm trying to give myself room and time to heal.