Well, I've decided I hate my coworkers.
I hate that I'm uncomfortable to be around.
I hate that my coworkers can laugh and have fun when my only child is in the ground.
I hate watching that other teacher walk around with her baby bump.
I hate witnessing some people just popping out babies one after another and they don't even seem to cherish them.
I want to quit immediately. My local Subway is hiring.
Now, let me talk about how I hate all this damn jolliness that is around. I hate being asked if my shopping's done. I hate having to actually do the shopping and I really hate that of the three ideas I have for my mother's gift, none of them can be here until after Christmas. I previously loved Christmas music, now hate it. I hate that I'm only putting up a tree because my nieces want to come and help me decorate it. I hate that I have a row of sympathy cards where a row of Christmas cards should be.
I hate that there is all this crap I have to do to "celebrate" the birth of Baby Jesus.
None of it matters, I want to scream, because my baby is dead.
And I hate FB, way too much happiness on there.
I hate the exclamation marks that someone uses on their FB comments to me.
"Love you, Paige!!"
What is there to shout or be excited about?
What do they think this is? A damn party?
I hate that people say it's so nice that I'm off for 2 damn weeks. I hate that there are endless hours of "vacation" in front of me that I have to fill up with meaningless activity to distract myself from this grief that is crushing me.
I hate that every activity is now meaningless.
I also hate that I'm still bleeding.
I hate that squirty bottle I have to use after I go to the bathroom.
I hate that there are no answers and never will be.
And I hate Dr. Hottie.
I hate that no matter how hard I try, I don't act or sound normal.
I hate all this unstoppable crying.
I hate that I'm crying less and less each day.
I hate that I'm still breathing and he is not.
Most of all, I hate that this is all about me, not about my beautiful baby boy.