Assumptions

It seems to me that a lot of people are making assumptions these days.

Assumptions about me. Assumptions about Craig. Assumptions about everything.

Like my uncles who assume that because I have not gone back to work that I am "lazy".

They also assume that because Craig has not gone back to work that he is "trailer-trash" and a "gold-digger".

Like my friends from Australia who were here this week, who assumed that things must be "getting better".

Or my friend here in the Netherlands who assumes that as the days, months and years pass, our grief must be "getting less".

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I am totally in hate with the world at the moment (as opposed to in love with it).

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My sister rang me last week to tell me that she's pregnant. An unplanned pregnancy. She has three beautiful healthy daughters, and she had two early miscarriages since those girls were born.

When she rang to tell me she was 6 weeks pregnant, and she'd already told her girls. I think she's mad. Anything can happen, as she knows. When I said something like this to her, she said the girls are aware that bad things happen, "like to your babies".

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I'm angry with anyone who has a healthy living child. Anyone. And it doesn't matter if they've lost a child/ren, had miscarriages, etc. If they have a living healthy child than they are a whole lot more fortunate than I am. They have a purpose in their lives, which I am missing in mine.

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One of my other uncles assumed that I was "comfortable wallowing in my grief/depression". I was so shocked when he said this (in Dutch so I had translate in my head), that I didn't respond.

I mean, surely anyone who has suffered ongoing and long-term grief, will know that there's nothing comfortable about it? Surely? Maybe I'm making an assumption here.

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I'm on a diet. I intend to lose about 30-35 kg.

When I mention that to people, they look skeptical. As if they're doubtful that I could lose that much weight.

Perhaps they've forgotten that for most of my life (prior to dead-children), I was a very tall, slim woman. They must have forgotten.

I was going through some clothes that I'd put away, and saw all these wonderful trousers, skirts, etc, which will only fit me if I get back to that size. And I'm going to try.

The diet is giving me a purpose. A short-term one, but a purpose nevertheless.

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When my father was here in the Netherlands a few weeks ago, I think he was quite shocked by us. By our appearances, by our lifestyle, by many things.

My anger, my sadness, my apathy, it all appeared to be quite new and shocking to him.

Strange though, we've been telephoning and skype-ing them regularly, but he doesn't really pay attention. He only sees and hears what he wants to.

But then, being here, there's no avoiding the reality of me, my life.

One day we saw him after he'd been staying at his sister's place for a while. He saw me, hugged me, and said that I looked much better. This surprised me, because I looked exactly the same as when he saw me the week before. I said as much, but he denied it vehemently, because apparently it suited his mentality to view me as a better and happier person than I was.

I guess he went back to Australia with that "happy and better" image in his head. It will make him feel better in the long run. It will allow him to get on with his life, without having to worry too much about me.

He made assumptions (erroneously) about me and my life. But they were assumptions which sat better with him.

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I guess other people make assumptions for the same reason. So that they can distance themselves from me and from Craig, without feeling too bad about it.