Compartmentalization

I heard a word today that perfectly describes how I have been coping lately: compartmentalization. I've heard the term before, but never really given it much thought. But now it makes perfect sense. I have been compartmentalizing all of my sadness, anger, frustration, and every other negative feeling associated with Jameson. In the beginning, these emotions were front and center, but these days, they mostly stay safely shut in their only little corner of my brain. Sometimes though, they come barreling out unexpectedly, like when I see a newborn baby boy, or a cute baby outfit I should have a reason to buy right now, or when I am writing a blog about it...

I understand that compartmentalization is supposed to be a positive coping mechanism, so you're not walking around like a grieving zombie all the time. But it makes me sad...like I am shutting out some of the few, although sad, memories of Jameson.

It reminds me of the day I got his memory box and put all of his things in there...the little rosary and wood box we got at the hospital, an MTSU onesie Diana had bought him, a stuffed walrus James got me while I was still in the hospital with my patient bracelet around its neck, his pictures, the only outfit I had bought him, his footprints and birth record, and a few other things. Anyway, when I put them all in the box, I had a complete meltdown. It just made me so sad to feel like his whole physical existence could be reduced to this one little box.

I was happy to have all of his things in one special place finally, but it made me sad at the same time. I guess that's how I feel about what is going on in my brain right now.