Laying in bed in the dark listening to C breathe and the dog snore.
I can't sleep. In bed til noon (after the dog's 8am walk, of course). Too distracted or sad or anxious, so a nap at 4:30 or so.
Futile lit searches* to pretend to do work. Considering incompletes again. Again, goddammit. Feels like failure. Again.
I was another person in August, September. Where is she? I want her back. Her hope. Her courage. Her optimism and love. Was she just a figment of medication? Of false hope? Acupuncture?
Or is this just chemical? Environmental? Old issues. Unresolved grief. Where is the real me? Somewhere in between.
*Do you know how much research is out there about academics/grad students and perinatal/child loss and career/identity? Even making it s broad as possible... Not as much as you'd think.