No, I'm not wasted right now (though I'd like to be. If any of y'all want to come over for a drink let me know!)
For the last few months I've been on an upswing, figuring things out, trying to figure ME out. I've been too busy to let the siren song of the dark reach me (or, more likely, ignoring the fact that a foray into the dark is inevitable by sticking my fingers in my ears and shouting "Nananananananana I can't hear you!"). Of course, I've had some bad moments, some minor down ticks in the upswing, but they were brief, usually tied to the post-ovulation/pre-menstrual phase of my cycle, predictable. A small crevasse, if you will, easily scaled.
But right now, I'm in the motherfucking Grand Canyon.
I don't know how I got here. I think it started with the advent of the birthing season. Like cats all over, my friends - both on the internets and IRL - are having babies. Or getting ready to pop. Or celebrating 1st birthday parties. And all of these things bring events that highlight how different, how damaged I am: baby showers, hospital visits, welcoming parties, 1st birthday parties. I want to be ok enough to do these things, to socialize, but instead I either don't go or don't get invited.
I am so isolated, and I know it's mostly my own doing.
I was thinking about what I want the outcome of my story to be: adoption? miraculous natural pregnancy? ART? living childfree? I can't answer that because what I want can't be.
I want none of this to ever have happened. I want to be normal, and happy. I want to still have friends.
I want the last five years to never have happened.
I hate my life.
PS - just logged on to FB to find this gem of a status update: "
