Hiding out

My Facebook message today says "Stacy is hiding out at home because she's not ready to talk to people." A friend of mine sent me a message saying that she doesn't believe that I'm hiding, but that I'm saying a lot to anyone who will take the time to read my words. The truth of it all? I really am a coward.

I truly am hiding...I just don't know what to say to anyone face to face. What's happened, what I've experienced, is so foreign to most people that they'll never understand completely. To go through a real labor, to hold Andrew, to kiss his tiny hands and then hand him back and never see him again....I don't know how to be the person I was before, because it feels like a part of me has died too. I don't know how to answer the standard "How are you doing?" that everyone asks. Do I lie and say, "I'm okay," and move on? Or should I be honest and tell them that I'm a basketcase and not sure if I'm supposed to laugh or cry or both? That I can't make a simple decision on what to have for lunch, and can someone please just order for me? That I can't tell my son if I'll be taking them Trick-or-Treat'ing next week, because I don't even know if I can get through tomorrow yet?

So in the end, it's just easier to hide. Sure, I write. But I'm writing for myself...not for anyone else. Writing helps...it gets the craziness out for a moment or two. Kind of like people that cut themselves to relieve their pain. (Don't worry, I'm not that far gone!) It takes up some time during the day...when the kids don't need me and I am ignoring things that should be done....I write. And write. And write.

And I keep hiding.

Sorry Sarah...normally you're right about stuff, but not this time. I'm just a coward.