The time immediately after placement was one of the most difficult periods in my life experience.
I was lonely. I was hurting, aching from my self-imposed loss. I was adrift. When I was pregnant, I had a plan: do everything I could to take care of myself and the baby. Once she was out of the equation, I was completely lost.
Physically, I healed rapidly. But emotionally and socially, I had a long way to go. I couldn't find my place. I continued to fail miserably at finding a job. As far as establishing relationships, I was entirely out of sorts. I was in between. It was difficult for me to associate with my peers, because I felt like I was on such a different level, regarding a maturity they were lacking. I don't mean to sound so uppity. I didn't think I was better than them. They just could not relate to where I was in my life experience. Okay, maybe there were times I didn't try hard enough. I struggled to enjoy the wholesome recreational activities they pursued. Their pursuits just seemed too simple and frivolous.
I did not do frivolous.
But my other friends were married with children. And I didn't really fit in that world, either. I knew I needed to move forward with my life. It was beyond me to figure out how to do that, though.
My brother and Kim got married. I spent some time in my hometown when they had the reception. I reconnected with some old friends. Then I went back to Logan. My roommates helped me celebrate my twentieth birthday. I wished I could have been more enthusiastic. I was grateful.
So, one day I was playing the thousandth game of Boggle, playing against myself, alone even though surrounded by roommates--they had been Kim's roommates before she married Worthy. The next I was completely packed up and on my way home with my family.
I was foundering. They wanted to help. To this day I still question if that was the correct choice for me. But I was in such a dark place, I let the decision be made for me.
I cannot fully explain to you how incredibly difficult that time was for me. And I was not just affected socially and emotionally. My fragile newfound spirituality suffered as well. If I could present an image to you, it would be this: Picture a person being lifted and carried in a mosh pit at a concert, held up high, cushioned and supported. Then suddenly, the song ends and the crowd forgets they are holding that person up. Immediately, she drops to the ground, bruised and broken.
I had never, NEVER felt so alone in my life.
The concert ended and the crowd just walked away.