In some ways you can rationalise death. You can process it, understand it and perhaps even be grateful for it. We're all different when it comes to these processes too. It could take years to get there. Sometimes we don't. We stay stuck in one place for a long long time. I feel like that right now. I think it has a lot to do with the stagnant emotional state of those around me. There's a lot of tip toeing and not talking or expressing of emotion. There's also a massive lack of understanding. I worry about me and me only. I have to. I learnt that the hard way.
I'm really struggling not so much to understand but to process? No that's not right either. Maybe I mean to say "find peace" or the like with the reality that I had a hysterectomy and it wasn't something I chose. It was done.
I'm really struggling to grasp that.
I can say it."I've had a hysterectomy." but it really doesn't go deep.
I don't let it.
I feel the knot in my stomach, the ill feeling that washes over me.
The tight chest.
The sting of tears brimming to the surface.
Then I just switch it off.
Change the subject, even in my own mind chatter.
I've read the medical notes, I heard the surgeons explanation but it isn't enough. There seems to be no closure to this. It's not something you just move through. Or is it?
I didn't feel like I was dying. That's trauma. It's sneaky.
Maybe it was his opinion
his disgust with me as a mother
as a woman
Maybe that has made this harder to accept.
Oh his face right there behind my eyelids.
Maybe he made the best decision.
Maybe he didn't.
Maybe he was angry and in a stressful situation.
Maybe he acted too quickly.
Maybe he did the best for me.
He'll never tell me
I'll never know
I am hurt that it was taken from me and disposed of.
It was mine and it should have been given back to me.
I try to seek support but it's always the same.
Oh you're so lucky! No more menstruation.
No! I'm not lucky.
I honoured my bleed. I miss that.
I want to feel that again.
I want my womb to ache.
I feel nothing but aching scars.
A constant reminder of my failures.
My disgusting body.
My hatred for myself.
I don't want it to be this way. I want to create beauty out of my pain. I wish I knew how. I can't paint or draw it. It never comes.
I was thinking about asking friends for a bead to represent how they feel about their precious wombs and then I'll connect them all and make a necklace to hold me together. To share with them what it means for me. I don't know. I'm feeling a wee bit insane, even as I type this.