The Joy of My Salvation: October 2016

Capture Your Grief - Day 30 - My Promise to You

"I made a promise to my son a few years ago to live my life to the fullest in honour of him. I have succeeded and failed at that promise many time but what matters most is that it has helped me to hold onto love when there is only darkness and to always try my best to make him proud of me. What promise would you like to make to your child?"
Abigail,

I'm not sure that I've ever sat down and really written or thought about this. I know since you died I've had a number of things I've intended to do better. Some of them I've had some success with, and some not so much. I wrote a little about it on Day 2 last year. Last night, I boxed up your things, for our upcoming move. I can't tell you how painful that was. It felt like burying you all over again. And it came up out of nowhere. I didn't tape up the box last night, but really I need to today, this is a little ridiculous. Not that telling myself that changes the way that I feel.

I promise to be a better Momma to your siblings. More patient and less crazy. While there is so much room for improvement, I feel like I've made huge strides in that area in the last year. I try to stop and think about their day and what's going on before I start fussing. I try to be empathetic not just harsh over their failures. I have made more of a point, to not yell at them, because I'm frustrated and mad about their behavior, something I had been trying to work on for years before our loss, but take more time to let them and me cool down, and then talk about why the behavior isn't God honoring. I'm trying to find more time to build with them, play games with them, and not just be constantly cleaning and doing. I hope to improve in that area more, as we move into our own house a smaller house, and really consider what we bring into it.

I promise to keep your memory alive. To never forget that we have a daughter, that we don't see. That your younger sibling will know you were here. Not that we will tell him (or her) when he's grown, as if it's all been some big shameful secret, but that you remain a part of our family that we remember and talk about often.

And I promise to better watch my health, and to be proactive with it from now on, that we will never experience another loss due to negligence again.

I love you, and still wait for the day we will meet.

Love,
Momma

(I'm swapping today's topic with tomorrow's since I'm not leaving the house today.)

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Capture Your Grief - Day 28 - Self Compassion

"Self Compassion is integral to healing your broken heart. You can start to practice more self compassion by showing yourself a little more love and care. Do you have any self-care practices? What are your thoughts on taking care of yourself."

This is another hard one. The truth of the matter is that I probably should take out some time on a consistent basis, to get out of the house without the kid. The year we lived in Gainesville, the biggest life saver in the insanity that was no job, a toddler, a new born, and Gary's insane school schedule - was that every two or three weeks, I took a book and went to Chickfila. Sometimes I got lunch, sometimes I just came up there and sat there and drank water. I just had to get out of the house. I'd go in the afternoon after Gary was done with classes, in between lunch and supper rush, so that I wouldn't be a bother to sit there for up to an hour.

I need to take more time to myself. I wake up to someone climbing on me asking for food most mornings, we clean, we do school, sometimes we have a little down time right before time to start supper and Gary to come home. Then it's like pulling hair to get kids to eat, get them to bed. It's exhausting, and too many days in a row with no break leaves me frazzled and short tempered. There were times early on, I will confess that I resented the kids always being there. I had no ability to just grieve and cry in the bed all day. People still wanted to eat, three times a day. Oh my goodness! Why is everyone always hungry?

I try to snag a few minutes here and there, mostly after bedtime to color and de-stress, or journal, or do some weekly planning in my planner. But it's an area that really needs some improvement. And I think aside from the benefits to my patience level, it's would be good for the kids to know that everything in my world DOES NOT revolve around them. I think sometimes, they don't get that reality check, and it's not good for their attitudes.

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When my time machine broke, I was stranded in the age of the dinosaurs...

I built a time machine, it scanned the dinosaur egg that turned into a rock, so off we went. But something was wrong, and none of my stuff, and especially my food couldn't come with me. Then I fell in the Cretaceous Period, in a big pond and went splash in the water. I was fine, but I knew I wouldn't be for long if I stayed there. I started walking, when I saw one T-Rex and one Triceratops battling. The Triceratops started getting tired, so he started running away, but the T-Rex couldn't catch him. Just then he smelled me, and started chasing me. I knew I was in trouble. I grabbed a vine and swung up into a tree where he couldn't reach me. And you know, that they can't climb with their tiny little arms. I stayed there, and I was safe, but I started getting hungry. So, I saw an egg that hatched. It was a little T-Rex. I left it, but instead of it leaving me alone, it kept following me. Even when I said go away. I finally found another egg, and it wasn't hatching, so I boiled it, after I made a fire with some sticks. Then I saw a straight piece of metal that was super shiny and clean. I stuck it with the egg, and boiled it, to eat it. I couldn't fish like a bear, so then I used the metal stick to catch the fish. Then I cooked it over the fire, took the scales off and cooked it a little more before I ate it. I was all full. But then there was a big BOOM, BOOM, ARRUUUUUUU. It roared, and I knew that roar anywhere. It was a T-Rex, the same T-Rex, and it was battling a whole herd of Triceratops. But the T-Rex grabbed the frill of one Triceratops, and hit the rest with his tail. Then he threw the first one on top of the others. He some how beat them all, and ate one of them. By then it was night so he curled up to sleep. I looked at my little T-Rex, and I knew I couldn't bring a dinosaur back to my time. I started back after he went to sleep too, and I saw a Brachiosaurus, she was going to his nest. She went to sleep in her nest with her baby and her husband. Then I went to sleep.

The next morning I saw a Brachiosaurus running away from a troop of Velociraptors. But then I saw a Velociraptor about to cling on, when the Brachiosaurus used his whip tail on him. All the others ran away. But they had taken out her husband and most of the herd. All that was left was her baby. Then a T-Rex came and started battling the Brachiosaurus, but when she hit him hard in the face he turned into a card. ("What?" I asked. "Come on Momma, this is a made up story he replied.") I grabbed the T-Rex card but there was one thing that surprised me. It was still with me - my special watch. So when I used the card, and matched it up with my watch, the T-Rex came out of the card. Opps. So I put it back in the card. I put him in my pocket and started walking. I thought I could use him to hunt for me. Before you could say, "A mouse in pickles" there was a real big fire in the woods. I knew I was in the same woods. Instead of jumping over the fire. I decided to use my T-Rex. I got on his back, since he could step over the flames. We got out of the forest, but then we all needed a bath, me the T-Rex, and the baby that had caught back up to me. So I got out of my clothes and took a bath in the pond. After my bath, I got dressed again.

Over the next several days, I managed to get all the dinosaur cards, in every period. So then I had to match up one of the cards from each period. I used a T-Rex for the Cretaceous, I used Parasarlopholus, Carnisaurus, and one more a Brachiosaurus. I was able to come home, and that's how I became Paleontologist Britt!

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Capture Your Grief - Day 21 - Relationships

Relationships after loss are difficult. You spend alot of time wanting to talk about your baby, but not wanting to alienate everyone around you. Then when you finally open up, too many people try to fix it with comments like I talked about in the last post, or they don't say anything at all. And I'm not sure which one is worse. Every now and then you find someone though, who shares their feelings, and encourages you to share yours. I've met a few of those along the way.

Perhaps the best relationship growth in this last year has been with me and Mother. We NEVER got along growing up. Though I didn't get it at the time, Daddy use to say we are just alike. I think I get that more and more. We are both perfectionist, very particular about everything, but somehow those particular things, aren't the same, so I guess that was part of our problem. Most of it was problem me, being unwilling to listen or learn anything, no empathy or understanding. Moving away from home, and having kids gave me a whole new appreciation for her, the last 7 years have been totally different. But for the most part my family doesn't talk about feelings, maybe that's part of the reason I still have trouble talking about things, and prefer to write. But this year, I have called Mother ALOT, and since getting pregnant again, I might even have crossed into calling too much. I've always known that she and Daddy pretty much agreed on everything, and she mostly lets him do the talking. In the last year though, I have talked to her alot about being afraid and missing Abigail, and she's shared what she misses. She's asked about all the test and not tried to fix what isn't fixable.

I am even more thankful for this when I read about other baby loss moms who have had their mothers act like they are being overly dramatic or have no real problems or who don't even count their child as one of their grandchildren. She counts Abigail in the grandchild count. She lights a candle on PAILs day, she put Abigail's name on our family Christmas ornament. She's never told me it's time to man up and be over it.

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10-16, Moon through the palms.

Capture Your Grief - Day 16 - Full Moon Retreat

I'm not sure that I've ever written about the reasons we chose Abigail's name, other than mentioning that it was the one name while she was alive that Gary kinda liked, and I really liked. All of our children have a biblical name. We not only were looking for names that we liked the sound of but we wanted them to all have a name that when they read about the character in the bible that we named them for, that they would have a role model. Someone worth emulating, someone who's life pointed toward God. Britt's first name is Elisha like the prophet. Ruth is named for my favorite book of the Bible. Rebecca is named both for a women in the old testament who showed great faith, and she has a virtue name as well.

Abigail has two Biblical names. I like the story of Abigail in the Bible. She was initially married to a foolish and disagreeable man, who insulted David. But we are told that she was not only beautiful but wise, and her quick action and wisdom averted danger from her household. Shortly after that the Lord struck down Nabal that he died, and Abigail married David. There is another Abigail that I have often admired, who was a wise women and revolutionary for her age - Abigail Adams. She was considered too sickly as a child to have a formal education, but her mother taught her at home, and she was on of the brightest and most vocal of young women of her age. She argued for women's rights to property, business, education, and the vote; that slavery be ended, and blacks given an education. Yet, she was also a passionate wife and mother. Her husband, John valued her opinion and though they disagreed at times, he respected it a great deal. She also was endlessly supportive of him as a lawyer just starting out, a member of the Continental Congress, and later on an Ambassador and President. She spent months on end managing their farm, business, and children while he was away. She also had six children one of which died at 2 and another that was stillborn. She was a feminist in the truest sense of the word, both a woman apologetically embracing who she was as such, but also unwilling to be less than who she could be. She is, to me, the most fascinating woman of the Revolutionary period. I had hoped for that kind of wisdom, fire, and respect in a daughter.

Abigail's middle name is Miriam. Other than being a little used name, that I like the sound of and all the possible nicknames for. It's the name of Moses's older sister. I've also found her character to be interesting in the bible. I don't know how old she was when Moses was born, but when he is put in the river in his little ark, she stands to the side to watch. When the Pharaoh's daughter finds him, she is bold enough, despite her age, to come up and ask to find a nursemaid for the baby, and brings back their own mother. She was a prophetess, and helped Moses. Once she and Aaron rebelled and she was struck with leprosy, but they immediately acknowledged their fault and asked for forgiveness. I had hoped that she would like wise be bold but quick to acknowledge her failings.

The funny thing is now, in Heaven, I'm sure that she is wise, bold, and fiery, but without the failings she would have had here. I do hope that she knows her name was chosen with the same care as her living siblings, as it was one of the few gifts that we could give her.

10-17, Gary captured a photo of the moon at the farm this morning as the sun was rising.

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Capture Your Grief - Day 13 - Dear World

Dear World,

If there was one thing about this journey that I could make you understand it is the fact that it literally changes everything about your life. I believe it's because it so fundamentally shakes you at your core, and drastically affects your thoughts and decision making. What's particularly sad is that there are times that you know you are being irrational, paranoid, or ridiculously anxious, but are powerless to do anything about it. There are times that your body kicks into gear, and even though you are telling yourself to stop shaking or to breathe normally, your body refuses to obey. There are times that you are telling yourself that this is not going to happen, but you mind makes all the contingencies anyway.

We lost Abigail due to medical negligence. Plain and simple. I'm still trying to get my mind around it. To go to the doctor requires a multi-step process now, when before it was something I didn't even think about. I have to mentally prep myself to make a phone call, and that's after I've researched the doctor to the moon and back. I then have to get my emotions under control enough to explain to a random receptionist that we need an appointment because I've had a previous still birth. I then spend days between scheduling and appointment alternately stressing about: if something is wrong, if they don't find anything to give us answers, if they don't take us seriously, if they treat us like a jerk instead of like people who have buried a child, if the current baby is really ok, if they will test without me begging pleading or throwing a fit, etc. The day of the appointment comes and I find myself perched on the edge of a chair, knee bouncing, hands shaking and clenching each other. Then they finally call us back. I have to get through the entire story of what happened with not only the doctor but first the nurse. Then I have to wait, often alone, for the doctor to show up. For fun, I run through the entire list of concerns in my head. There is the fighting of a panic attach when ultrasounds are hooked up in the office. Generally the doctor manages to set me at ease, until I walk out the door, then I second guess all my impressions and their decisions or actions.

This overly mental process occurs all over my daily life now. I have mentally designed tombstones for all of our children, including the one that I am pregnant with now. Seriously. This morning I found myself looking at taggies, so that if we lost this child, I would at least have bought something for him or her, unlike with Abigail. Then I found myself contemplating what scripture reference to put on the stone. It was this evening before I realized that might not have been the most normal thing to consider. It doesn't really feel like an "if," though I often say if we get to keep this one. It feels inevitable that we will lose another. I have mentally thought through who to get out of a car in what order if we ended up crashed in a river.

I have to overly plan out and organize myself to spend an entire day out of the house, because it's too mentally exhausting. Do I go to a baby shower? Is it supportive to go or is it the dark cloud to rain on everyone's parade because I'm the horror story of what could happen? Am I even up to it, and all the assumptions that of course the baby will be born healthy. When women are sharing birth stories, do I join in or no. Do I tell the story of our first three and skip Abigail's labor and birth? When I hear about doctors just hanging out and watching complications or potential problems instead of being active, can I just keep my mouth shut without freaking out. When a random stranger in town tells Britt, it must be hard being the only boy, and he says I have three sisters, but one of them died. Then which of the seventeen possible responses do I pull out? Only to then spend the rest of the day thinking how I could have handled that better to not freak them out, and honor my daughter. The one than consumes alot of thought though is how can I include her in our life and be honest about her, without running off everyone I know and freaking everyone else out. Then I wonder why it is that I have to care about what other people think because I'm the one that buried a child, who cares how they feel about it?

It changes the way I live my daily life, the way that I parent, the way that I express myself as a wife. It changes everything. My life is literally before and after. It's hard to explain, because most of this is an internal thing, a mental thing, but the truth is that you are never the same after the loss of a child. So many don't understand or recognize it, and it's nearly impossible to explain, but it affects relationships. Mostly because even though it's not something that is easy to understand and recognize others can feel the shift and it make them uncomfortable, it either drives them away because they can't deal with it, or you push away from them because they failed to be there for you in a way that you though your closest friends would.

Like I said yesterday, I'm still trying to find something good from all this, but the truth is that it changes things in every way. And I'm not sure that any of it is for the better.

~a Momma who will always be missing her daughter~

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Capture Your Grief - Day 11 - Creative Heartwork

There have been several projects that I have done for Abigail, in her memory, for me. Obviously we designed her stone. I have a bracelet that I wear daily, and a neckalace that a friend made me. I have a candle that we light for PAILs day and her birthday. I have colored a number of pictures when I'm missing her, but by far the largest project has been her Christmas stocking.

When we were little my mother cross-stitched stockings for Daddy, her, and us kids. They are really beautiful work. I wanted something similar for our family, but without the work, I was nervous about the idea of taking the finished cross-stitch and making it into a stocking. So I bought some that look like they were cross-stitched. But when Abigail was born, I knew even though she'd never use it that I wanted one for her. I wanted to see her name up there by everyone else, because she is still such an important part of our family. Christmas was hard, since she was due New Year's Eve, and I had hoped she might be born before Christmas.

However, I couldn't find any that I liked, anything for a still born baby. When I found this pattern I knew it was perfect. A pair of cardinals, three geese flying - just like us two and her three older siblings. The sled reminded me of a gravestone, with a country church in the background. The only problem was that the toe of the stocking pointed off to the left. So as I made it I reversed the pattern. It took me about 7 months of working almost non stop to complete it. There were times that I thought I had taken on an impossible project. I worked on it when I was lonely, and sad, and mad, and when I just wanted to hold her. I worked on it, when I wanted to think about her, and when I wanted to think about nothing. And it has hung on a nail in my bedroom ever since I finished it the end of May. I'm looking forward to hanging it up with the others for Christmas, and seeing our family together in a way at least for a time.

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Capture Your Grief - Day 10 - Symbols and Signs

Unlike most of the baby/child loss community, I don't believe that my child sends me signs. I believe that she is in Heaven, enjoying the fullness of the glory of that place. I believe in Heaven we know what we have been saved from, otherwise how could we truly appreciate the wonder that it is. However, I believe that the sin and pain of this world no longer hold any sway over us. That's the only way that I see that we can understand what we were and yet not have immense grief over all our sins.

I don't believe my daughter is looking through a window somewhere concerned or worried about me. I don't think she sends messages or signs to me. I certainly don't think she is an angel. However, there are things that remind me of her. Things that make me smile, most of the time.

Red Fall leaves, remind me of her. I suppose it's because in the weeks following her death, all the trees began to change. It's not anything that I see though, now that we are again living in South Florida, where fall doesn't exist. The baby loss community has latched onto butterflies and dragonflies as their babies coming back to visit. I suppose it is because of the transformation of their lives. They live half of their life as one thing, and then they change in such away as the other caterpillars or nymphs can't see or even imagine them as they are now. One Sunday we were all in blue (because if I have to get everyone's clothes laid out, they are going to be somewhat coordinated) and walked out to Abigail's grave, where we saw a giant blue dragonfly, and it made me smile.

I had not mentioned yet, but I had thought if we had a girl. That I would do her crib up in pink and brown, and that this little bunny would be her special toy, the way that Ruth carries around what use to be a pink silky monkey, and the way that Rebecca is attached to her taggie owl. We recently took family pictures and to include Abigail I brought along the rabbit. I had debated holding on to it, and using it again, if we had another daughter, but I've decided, it's ok, to have something that was just for her.

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Capture Your Grief - Day 8 - Beautiful Mysteries

I've read and been told that it's healthy, and good for healing to imagine your child either as who you think they would be or as you imagine that they are. Today's topic is about that. This exercise is difficult, because Gary can never play along. He always says that anything that he could imagine wouldn't be real anyway. I most often imagine her as I think she is in Heaven now, because it's painful to see her absence here.

I have two friends. One who had a healthy little girl a week before Abigail. And another who had a little boy born the week before Abigail's due date. The both of them remind me so often of what she would be doing at this moment if she was here. We just celebrated Abigail's first stillbirthday. But she really should be only about 10 months old right now.

There are days when the two oldest are working on their school work, while I help our youngest living child learn to trace her letters. When I can almost imagine out of the corner of my eye, a little girl with whispy red hair, pulling all the books off the bookcase. I can remember the reaction when the other three were small enough to do that. Fussing at them, putting all the books back on the shelf. Giving them that not happy face, shaking my head and saying no, before redirecting them somewhere else. The inevitable trek back to the bookshelf, that would be followed by popping a hand, for attempting to pull books apart.

And I am reminded of something Sis. Kate told me once, that she realized later, that her "shadow child" grew along side of her other two, but he was a child that she never had to spank, never had to fuss at. One who never felt down and hurt his knee, one who never experienced heart ache. One that she never messed up in parenting. Today she is gone. I like to imagine that the first thing she did after giving Jesus the biggest hug ever, was that she found Steven, and got to finally meet him. I look forward to the day I get to do the same.

I took this picture laying on Abigail's grave on her birthday.
I've always like the way that trees look upside down.

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Capture Your Grief - Day 6 - Empathy

Today we were instructed to share what people could say or do that would help a grieving parent. Sometimes I think it is hard to say exactly would is or isn't helpful, just because people are so different. But an article I saw a few days ago, had a suggestion that I wish had been my experience. It was good enough that I wanted to share the sentiment again.

Often people would say to let us know if you need anything. They would mean well and want to help, but I would never know how to respond. I would never know what to ask for. On one hand I'm a little self-conscience, even in the midst of the worst time of my life, I was afraid of asking too much or inconveniencing someone else. The only times that I asked for anything was when I really had no other option but to ask. Additionally grief makes your brain foggy. I can remember the morning after she was born, having to pack up for the five of us to travel down to Florida for the funeral. It took me HOURS to pack. Gary was getting beyond frustrated with me. I couldn't think of what all we needed to be gone a few weeks. After I thought of it, then I couldn't remember what I had just walked into the kids room for. For someone who is usually on top of everything, who is constantly running multiple things through her brain, the mental fog was terrible. As a result I often couldn't think what was coming up, or what I would need help with, or what I needed someone else to do.

The post I saw suggested, that when someone is grieving, just to spend sometime thinking about what might help, and then just do it. There may be times, that you show up on someone's door, and they don't let you in. There may be times that you show up and are a huge help. Sometimes, it may be that you can help, and they never climb out of the covers. Sometimes, it may be that you come to help, and they just need someone to talk to for 2 hours straight. BUT the thing is that by saying let me know what you need, you've put the burden on someone who doesn't have a clue what they need. But by taking the lead to do something, most of the time, you'll be a huge help, and be around for the spur of the moment things that turn out to be a huge comfort.

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Capture Your Grief - Day 4 - Support Circles

I have found support in a couple of places in the year that has passed since we lost Abigail. The first is with a few special friends. Sis. Kate, who I wrote about last year on this subject, has hands down been the biggest help. 27 years ago, she walked this same road, with a baby who was born to soon to live. She would listen to me rant, and share her experience. I would write and ask her if I was going crazy, and she'd tell me it was common to grieving. She'd tell me not to be so hard on myself. She helped me to brainstorm how to remember our daughter, and keep her memory alive as part of our family. She shared her fears when she found herself pregnant again afterward. She was always good to settle my mind and comfort. Kathy was the most supportive person when we first found out. She kept our kids so we could make follow up appointments. She had us over for meals, so that I didn't have to think about food. And 2 short months later when we had to move across the country for a new job, she dropped everything to help me pack. She's hung out with me on facebook chat for some late nights, and left phone messages, and notes in the mail. She has never said one of those dumb things that people often say to a grieving parent. Everyone who's lost a child knows what I mean, the pat phrases, that when you stop to think about them not only don't make sense, but are often actually hurtful. The last one would be Sis. Lydia. She has on numerous occasions, let me talk and talk and talk. Even when there are no good responses or answers. She has never made me feel like it's an inconvenience to her to listen to me. And she has often done little things at random moments, when things were difficult. Whether she just felt lead to or, whether she actually knew I was having a more difficult time. It has meant alot, to have 3 real life friends during this time. So many women seem to lose all their old friends and support networks, because no one wants to touch grief with a ten foot pole, as if losing a child is contagious.

I've also found alot of support in the BabyCenter Community. There are a few groups for baby loss. And I've found several other women who's loses are due to their thyroid, or who experience second trimester loss (which apparently is more rare than loss in either of the other trimesters). Being able to compare doctor's notes, and learn more about what to ask, and look for as we try to get pregnant again has helped alot. Plus they never complain if you have to rant about something.

The picture I'm including today, is of Abigail's memory box that the hospital gave us. It is stuffed full of cards and notes, as well as the pictures we have of Abigail's pregnancy and birth. There are also a few things setting with it, that have been gifts from other friends, all of which mean so much, because it tells me that someone else was thinking of her too.

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Capture Your Grief - Day 3 - What It Felt Like.

I don't know that I've written that much what that ultrasound was like, the one when we discovered that Abigail had died. I can remember after we got to the office, and I was filling out paperwork, and Britt bounced up to the window to tell the clerk, that we were here to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl, and how he was hoping for a brother. I can remember waiting with such excitement. When they called us to come back, I can remember telling the tech that I was really looking forward to this, because I didn't feel this baby move as much as the others. I can remember watching the screen as she moved around and got measurements and photos. The kids were pointing and excited, and I was smiling. Then all of a sudden I noticed that one of the measurements said 17 weeks, and I said that's not good, but still in a light-hearted voice. The ultrasound tech then said, no and to be honest I've not seen the baby move this whole time. That's when I got concerned. A minute or two later, she tried to record a heartbeat and got nothing. She told us that she needed to go get her supervisor. Someone at some point told us that she was gone, and that they would call our doctor's office for directions. We told the kids as we sat there, and then Gary carried them out to the car. While I sat there in the dark alone. I got teary eyed then, but didn't cry till I got out to the car. I'm glad I asked for some photos before we left. They loaded the three they took on a disk, while I sat back in the waiting room. Waiting for instructions from the doctor's office. I wanted to leave, I didn't want to fall apart in public. I wanted to go home. I wanted the nightmare that I had never dreamed possible to go away. I wanted to wake up to do the day over with different results. Eventually they agreed that I could go home, since home was on the way to the hospital anyway, and that the doctor could call us back on my cell phone. I remember crying and sitting stunned the rest of the trip.

That day is a real blur. Very little of it is defined memory. They say that grief does a real number on your memory and concentration. More than a year later, and I'm just now getting back to where I can knock out a days worth of work, and multitask, and keep multiple things in my mind at a time. I have had a few ultrasounds since then. One the morning Abigail was born at my insistence, to be sure. One a month or so ago at the RE's office to count follicles. There is not any joy or excitement with them anymore. But an immense dread and fear. There is a feeling of crawling out of your skin, as you sit on those tables, freezing to death looking at a machine that has the power to ruin your life all over again. There is a paranoid feeling of needing to run from the room. A real tenseness when they cut off the lights. It affects everything, and while we were told to write, "to give the outside world some insight" no one really gets it, and to be honest, I hope they never have to.

4:17 PM No random thoughts

9:55 PM No random thoughts

7:25 AM No random thoughts

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