[some of these entries are from the journal my counselor at the time told me to keep. She'd make me answer certain questions, this being one of them.]
Why can't I be transparent?
Because I don't like people to know my problems. I like being "happy". If everyone knows your problems then you can't be happy. Because you then have to think about your problems and you can't focus on the plastic things in life. Like weather and music and just plain fun.
I really hate to dwell on my problems. Really. I like to think about them and be sad, but then push them out of my mind. Up until my miscarriage it was working rather well for me.
I don't know anyone who is normal enough to help me (besides my counselor, which is why I'm going to her). All of the people I'm around have so many problems they focus on and I don't think that I need to be giving them mine.
I help them.
If I ever found anyone who could help me, that'd be great, but I don't know who it could be.
Crying
I don't like to let people see me cry, except when it involved God, because I guess I feel dramatic. Like when my grandpa was sick, I didn't care who saw me cry. But I won't be like, "Ahhh my miscarriage was four months ago" with tears running down my face. It's just not me.
Pregnant Women
As far as bad feelings toward other pregnant women go, yes. I realize that sometimes I do feel not nice things toward them. Like during praise & worship and I see them praising God with all their hearts. I think, "Yeah, it's easy for you to do that, you have a baby." Almost immediately the other part of me is like, "Oh, but they tried to get pregnant for so long, Sarah." Then I back off. But that is my usual reaction.
And [a woman at church]. She's so flipping happy I can't stand to be around her mostly. It grinds on my nerves. I don't feel friendly to her anymore. She is borderline obnoxious to me.
All of this would change if I was pregnant, but hey, I'm not, so whatever.
So...that's the truth in a nutshell.
I just wonder what people think. Do they realize it's hard for me to pal around with the preggos? Or to see ultrasounds? Or to hear about the baby kicking? And then there's [another woman at church] who acts like it's not the happiest time in her life, which I know it is. But maybe she's just doing that for my benefit. Who knows? All I know is that I sound like a bitter old woman. Dang it.
