Over and over again and I am three years ago grieving, except not just the boys, but my hope for family and connection and achievement and meaningful work.
I am tired of all the pills. All the false hopes and the "adverse" side effects (normal and humiliating) and crying, and frustration from everyone I know. Trying to be hopeful that this combo will work. Knowing that if they do, then *that* indicates a closer approximation to exactly how fucked up I am. And wishing I could just dump them all. And fearing what that would do to me. Physically and emotionally.
I'm tired of watching everything I want go down the drain because I have no guts, no strength in my legs to put one foot in front of the other. I'm tired of busting my ass for a bunch of students who, for the most part wish they were somewhere else and who know they have a job after graduation so this is just one more hurdle for them to carelessly jump over. And who does the work? Me. Trying to be fair, trying to engage them.
I want to run away. I'm tired of cycling through all the various feelings again. Grief. Loss. Infertility. Fear. Hope. Doubt. Loss. Grief. This cycle is three years old already. I'm tired of it. I am left behind. Special as I always wanted to be. But as I always feared.
I feel like I have no footing. I have nowhere to go from here. Up? Until something fails again. Until I fail again.
My therapist has her work cut out for her, but I wonder if even she can/will want to deal with all this crazy. Have I mentioned how many times I've cried, just fearing that I am too fucked up for her?
I want to go away. I don't know where. I don't know what good it would do. Most people I love are far away (please, no guilt). Those nearby have little clue. Or maybe I'm just tired of going through all this again with them. I want empathy. Understanding. I don't want to have to explain.
I don't care about the dissertation right now. No ambivalence. I don't have any idea how to spproach it or even get started writing about it. All I can write is this crap.
10 years since my mother's gone. The world is literally shaking on its axis. Men openly and politically discount and hate women. Capitalism openly gouges for needed services.
So much pain. So much loss. We chip at the great wall with a little spoon. we bloody our knuckles for what?
That is another rant for another day.
I feel like I did 2.5 years ago. More functional maybe. But still.
I'm really tired of it.
4 comments:
Loving hugs...
Tired. Oh yes. I am too. Tired of it. I hate it. I hate it that not only did I lose my children, I lost the chance to be a mother, I lost my career, I lost myself, I lost everything. And now just being is tiring. And I can't be bothered any more either. Which is just not fair to my husband. But I am too tired. ((hugs)) to you.
What to say? Right now sucks.
I have such good wishes for your new therapist. I hope now is the point where you can start looking up.
I know I keep saying this, but this really strikes home for me. There were years and years that I lost because I just. couldn't. get. better.
I tried everything and nothing worked. I hated myself because nothing worked. I thought I'd never truly get better. But, eventually, I did.
And, for what it's worth, here's the (limited and tarnished) silver lining. I don't think anything will ever be that bad again. Even when I lost my twins, I could say to myself: I've been through worse and I've survived.
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