Life’s a beach

Oh, if only this were true.

I have a confession to make: this was my second trip in three weeks. Both only two nights away from home but I’ll take what I can get right now. I missed posting about the first “escape” because I came home to that awful e-mail letter from my (no longer any kind of, best) friend. (I’ve decided not to reply at all and to just cut the ties.)

The beach was wonderful. That is why I went again. The ocean is very soothing to me. Also just being “away” is soothing right now. It’s an escape of sorts. Not a complete escape (Babies like the beach too, so do pregnant women). But it’s enough of an escape to feel very restful, very peaceful. I basically slept when I wanted, rode my bike at least 5 miles a day, walked another 3 miles or more. Ate what and when I wanted, not having to cook a thing, etc. I knitted in the late evenings, watching junk TV. I read on the beach, watched the waves, collected shells. It was all very indulgent. The monarchs were migrating, they were everywhere. I saw dolphins playing along the shore one day at lunch. Overall, they were two very lovely days. (Both times.)

Here’s the rub: I had to come home. And the restful bit fades very quickly. I wish I could carry that peace with me, at least for a while. But reality hits like a bit of a brick wall as soon as I return. (Yesterday I already had a crying spell.)

There are good things about coming home. I did miss C. and the kitties too. My own bed is more comfortable than any hotel bed I’ve ever come across and having someone next to me in it is definitely better than sleeping alone. But lately, home represents a routine that has come to represent pain and home has also come to represent an emptiness where little voices should be shouting and little feet running . . . home for all it’s comfort feels mostly like it’s missing something essential.

I am in a very shaky place right now. I feel hopeful one minute, doomed the next. I am trying to find a balance in it all, but it’s just so hard. I wonder if I am kidding myself and whether I should just get on with things. And what does getting one with things mean? Adopting? Finding some other dream to follow?

Right now I have a whole lot of questions and very few answers.

If only I could run away to the beach and stay there for a while . . . but that’s not real life.

And real life just feels so hard right now.

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17 Responses to “Life’s a beach”

  1. Heather Says:

    I’m glad you had good trips, and safe travels.

    IF sucks.

  2. Starfish Says:

    I think many of us have been in that place. For me it was very difficult for me to admit “defeat” and stop treatments for good. While my husband was on board with stopping, I did for my own sake sit him down and (crying of course) discuss it to make absolutely sure we were on the same page. And maybe also to apologize for not being able to conceive and any other silly irrational things I needed to get on the table. Once we did that we were able to concentrate on adoption. I have been a completely different person since. Full of hope and excitement for the first time in a long time. Of course, there is still sadness over what could have been, but it is the best decision we ever made.

  3. steph Says:

    I feel for you. I wish you could have that beachside content feeling bottled and delivered fresh every hour on the hour. And if that happens can you send some here, too?

  4. Millie Says:

    So glad you had a couple of good trips. I’m a ‘beach person’ too in that there’s a very kind of solace I get only from the ocean and time spent near it.

    I know that shaky place as well and hope you find a way to bring some of the beach back with you.

  5. Carol Says:

    I’m glad you had good trips – I think we all need it. but I know exactly what you mean about coming back to reality – I recently had a two week vacation, and cried for nearly a week upon coming home. I wished I could just stay in that fantasy world forever, and pretend I hadn’t a care in the world. It’s hard to come back and face the sadness.

  6. Lut C. Says:

    Great, now I have that song in my head. You know the one, from that movie with Leo. 😉

    I love going to the beach, but the hordes of families/PG women has spoilt it a bit for me.

  7. Mary Ellen and Steve Says:

    I am glad that you had a good trip, but I am sorry that you had to come back to the uncertainty and pain of IF. I hope that you find some of the answers that you are looking for. Sending you a hug.

  8. Anonymous Says:

    You said some good things about what home represents, what it has come to represent. Things that resonated. I guess I hope you find that balance, and figure out what the next part is.

    Bea

  9. shazz Says:

    Ya know I live right on the beach and I so take it for granted, but I do know what you mean by it all.
    Lots of hugs.

    PS I have changed web blogs too!

  10. GLouise Says:

    I am glad you are back. I hope that a little bit of that peaceful feeling from the beach will stay with you….

    Lately when things have been rough for me, I keep saying Surely this feeling can’t last forever, and “this too shall pass.”

    thinking of you,

  11. MoMo Says:

    Looks like you had good trips–it is sometimes nice to have a place that you know you can always go to feel at peace. IF is such a hard road and I just want to let you know I am thinking of you.

  12. Thalia Says:

    Ah yes, I empathise tremendously with coming home. When I’m away, I can forget IF, just a little tiny bit. Once I’m home, there it is, waiting for me.

  13. Angie Says:

    I’m glad you are able to get away for a while.

  14. N Says:

    Oh I am there too. At the strange place. About what the future brings. What is going to happen. What should we do next. Should I be hopeful or feeling doomed. I’m there with you and I wish I could follow along for your next trip to the ocean!

    I am glad to read that you had such a good time at the sea.

    Hugs,

    N

  15. Sarah Says:

    I would do anything to get off this couch and go outside to the beach. The closest that I got was standing at the door and catching a few breaths of the rainy fresh air on my way to the bathroom! So glad that you had the opportunity to enjoy the healing power of the sand, sea and wind!

  16. serenity Says:

    I could have written this very post. Being “away” is very restful to me.

    But then I come home. And the silence of our house rises up to drown me.

    It’s so hard, Beagle. I am glad that you were able to enjoy a couple of days away from all of it.

    *HUG*

  17. soralis Says:

    I am glad you got a few day break. Sending hugs your way.

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