Many of you already know that I've been working on this non-profit, Lilly's Dream, for quite a while. My goal was to get 15 care packages ready to deliver by October 15th. I've been working so hard on this stuff. Since I'm still waiting on some of the paperwork to come in, I've been funding most of this project myself. I found a lady to make some blankets. And then I decided I wanted two blankets, so I made the others myself. And then I found someone to make some journals. And I ordered some "Now I Sleep" cds. And I started working on an information packet to put in the boxes.
Everything started coming in the mail this week. First the journals. Then the cds. Then those tiny crochet blankets. And I cried. I love this project. I love that I can do something to help. I love that I can feel like I'm doing something for my babies. But when I opened that boxes of blankets, it hit me really hard that there are far too many babies dying every day. No baby should ever need a blanket this tiny. Ever. It broke my heart all over again.
And then I realized that in pushing myself so hard with this project, I haven't been giving myself time for just myself. For relaxing. For thinking. For doing nothing at all.
I worked all Monday night and then had a class Tuesday afternoon, so I was given Tuesday night off. I fell asleep on the couch. I was having dreams about being in the hospital again. So many things playing over in my head. The images. The words. The pain. And then one nightmare would evolve into another. I was hurting. I was fighting myself to not wake up to pee because I was afraid of seeing blood again, like in my dreams. When I woke up, I was hurting and I was bleeding. And I went straight from nightmares to vivid flashbacks. I cried. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I cried so hard I couldn't move. I crawled into the shower, and I cried so hard I couldn't stand up so I just sat down. I had turned the water up so hot, trying to scald the bad feelings away, and I sat in it, crying, until the water ran cold. I have burns on my skin from it still.
That's not healthy. It can't be. I know it's just a part of the grief process, but it scares me. To scald myself like that. On purpose. That's crazy. I thought I was doing so well, but some random bad day pops up and things go to shit. I don't like counseling. I don't like medication. I don't like flashbacks or what I did to myself because of them. I don't know what to do.
I think maybe I'm just overwhelmed with this stuff, the Lilly's Dream project, and work. I'm hoping that's it because that's an easy fix.
I don't think I'm gonna have these 15 care packages together by the 15th, but I think that's a good thing. I need to take a break and take some time for myself.