My love of reading has been a part of me since I can remember. There wasn't a time I didn't like to read (or learn, I love school, I dream of going back to get my masters) I always had a book in hand, I love to escape and imagine my life in a book. I've been so many places and lived so many lives through books. I simply love books (we have quite a bit in our library) I'm even more ecstatic that I now have a designated library space. But the last 6 years, me and reading, we haven't done so well.
After Ty died I simply could not read. I couldn't be bothered. My love for it died, just like him. After Jacob died all I wanted to read was about other women losing babies. I needed to read about babies dying so my book choice became very somber. Shortly after being diagnosed with ptsd and anxiety, I kind of understood why it was so hard for me to pick up my love for reading again, My brain could not comprehend or focus on the words and the images. I tried a couple of times but I struggled. For months I have up. For years I gave up but then I moved and now have my own library. It's a very warm and welcoming space, the only thing missing is my dreamed about fire place, but everything else is perfect.
One night I picked up a book. I sat and read. I could not put it down. Over the past few months of living here, I've lost many hours of sleep due to reading. I've found my love for it again. I have been going through books like crazy. Of course, in some odd sense, almost every book has mentioned stillbirth or a child dying. It doesn't bother me though. It just makes the book more real, I can connect to the emotions on a much deeper level. I just can't stop reading. I did learn that I need at least one night in between books to process everything and I've also learned that some books (it's only happened once) make me angry at the ending. The last book I read was such a good book, then I got to the end. I hated the ending, it made me feel like reading the book was a waste. But, I think the reason was, it wasn't a happy ending book. It left me in the unknown and not so great. It didnt wrap up like most books and it really bothered me. I've since moved on and found another one to replace my empty ending feeling.
Books are just one part of the old me. With the season changing, I've had the urge to start playing hockey again. I played growing up and use to love it. I stopped when I got pregnant with Ty and haven't been back since. The urge to play again is new, it's new to me this year, I wont be able to play this year but even the fact that the urge to play is there, it's refreshing. I know people's interested change regardless of trauma, they just change as you get older but for something so deeply rooted in me, it's nice to see that small bit of life pre-trauma coming back. I don't know if I will ever play again or not (still have all my equipment) but I have not skated in 6 years, other than last year when we took Bee once and it wasn't so pretty. I'm okay with that. I'm okay with that urge and maybe it will be strong enough one day to get back on the ice. It's not as daunting to me as some of the other things I enjoy that I would love to do again (camping for example)
I've also found myself really looking forward to Christmas and all the fun things we will be doing leading up to it. I've actually felt a tinge of excitement, like real, actual excitement. Given, life is life and I'm a parent so I'm also exhausted and sleep deprived, but to connect with a positive emotion is HUGE for me. Even for a few seconds, it still counts.
I've also started saying the new mantra, negative emotions are okay, negative reactions are not, meaning its okay to feel nervous and angry and frustrated but my behaviour to those actions has to be positive. It's been challenging to figure out pressure valves for the negative feelings. Sometimes I feel I have to yell so I'm trying to play music loud and sing really loud to it. In an odd sense, it helps a bit. It helps take the edge off. Other things are not as easy but I'm working towards it.
At the end of the day (figuratively and literally) what I need is to sit down and take a few moments to connect with whatever makes me feel good and lately that has been reading. Off I go into another adventure, this one is a juicy one.