How do you know you’ve become a lazy blogger? When you miss your own blogoversary. It was on Valentine’s Day, and I had thought a lot about it before it came and then last Saturday I just completely blanked on it. The last year of blogging has been amazing, and I’m so grateful for all of you. I promise I’ll have a real kumbaya session on this sometime soon, really. But for the moment, it seems I’ve prefered to keep a low profile rather than face my glum mood over the state of my life at the moment. Nothing earth shattering by any stretch, but just the profound weariness of keeping body and soul together. And marriage and family and dog and work and support group and yoga and dancing and friendships. Despite my best intentions, I’ve become sort of busy lately, and when I’m not busy, I’m exhausted from the emotional work of waiting and of life in general.
I’ve said it before, and no doubt I’ll say it again. Being an adult kind of blows.
I’ve sort of tipped over into the state of doing too much and not wanting to just be with myself and my true feelings. The quietness and the fuzzy brain I talked about in the last post seem to be precursors to depression and despair for me, and hopefully next time I’ll pay more attention to that. It’s just that it’s so nice to get a break from anxiety or worry or obsession that it’s hard to catch myself as I start slipping into the funk that inevitably follows those times where my brain is turned off. And I’ve been so aware lately of how much my life has been taken over by my single mindedness – being unable to plan anything more than a month in advance, our finances, my ability to have a conversation.
In many ways, I’ve been feeling a lot like I did when I returned from Japan. Having lived overseas for three years, coming back was really hard. Much, much harder than leaving. Because when I first went to Japan, I expected to feel out of place – I knew who I was, more or less, but naturally it takes time to figure out how to fit in to a new workplace, new culture, new language. But I was bringing myself into that situation, offering myself to the experience, and extending myself compassion when I didn’t know what to do. Returning was, in so many ways, the exact opposite. Here I was, in my hometown, surrounded by people I’d known for years, in familiar territory. The problem was that I didn’t know who I was anymore. I felt like who I thought I was had been eclipsed by my experience, by my story, by my circumstances. I felt like I didn’t exist anymore.
Lately, I feel like I don’t exist anymore. Like all I am is my desire to have a baby and the path I’ve chosen to try to make that happen. Like all I am is this cycle, and then the next one, and the next one. I feel like I’m in a spotlight, unable to see beyond the little puddle of light around me, consisting of acupuncture appointments and cycle days and morning temperatures and the creased foreheads of worried people around me, checking in to see that I’m ok. But beyond that it’s just darkness. Impenetrable and perplexing darkness.
I don’t mean to say that I’m in the depths of despair. In some ways, that might be easier. Emotions come and go, I know that. But what about my life? What about me? Will I feel whole again?
Here from LFCA:
Happy Blogoversary!
I know exactly how it feels to feel as though being a mom has consumed and taken over your life. (((hugs)))
anna, this is such a heartfelt post. this infertility crap is so disorienting — it’s natural to feel like you are nothing more than your struggle. we often define ourselves and measure our happiness and success in terms of what we don’t have, what we haven’t achieved. it may be hard to feel right now, but you are still there, the same kind soul who ever was, just trying to find your way through this mad darkness. sending you love and light.
and happy blogoversary. I”m glad your voice is out there.
You’ll be able to peer into that darkness and make out some fuzzy shapes eventually. I think we all go through times when it feels like we’ve become a pitiful sum of ttc parts. And when something’s so out of your control, it makes it all the more consuming.
Do you need a break for a few months? Even when I was pissed about my hCG falling at a glacial pace, it was nice having a month or two to think about everything but ttc.
I saw your comment on Mel’s virtual bar post a few minutes ago, about your concerns with Femara… I completely relate to your hesitation to fool around with an off-label drug. It made me want to ask if you’ve considered trying low-dose FSH. From what I understand, the success rate of Clomid for women who already ovulate is pretty low, whereas injects, though requiring more monitoring and costing more money, are a lot more effective. I found FSH to have more tolerable side effects than Clomid, too.
Just some unsolicited assvice.
Praying that you find your way. Sending you love and hugs. Happy blogoversary.
I hope you have someone to talk to (other than us, of course). I know you have your support group, but I have found it helpful to talk to an infertility counselor. She helps me alot, even now. I just don’t want you to be alone, or even feel alone.
Sending hugs…
Oh sweet Anna. I sit here shedding tears. For us.
I was just thinking about you this morning while brushing my teeth. I am sorry things are not better. If we moved together to Japan, would we feel like we fit in a little more?
I could have written every last word of this. While we are in the spotlight, we are constantly tettering between what is normal and that when we need help, a break, a life. I have found I need to try to just be without overanalyzing ( a significant problem I have). I am not sure if that is necessarily healthy either because it leads more to that numbness you spoke of. Just know I feel your pain. You are so not alone. We have just been battling this shit too long and cycle to cycle is all we could possibly see.
You must remember you do exist. This spotlight will somehow lift.
You are a strong, strong soul.
Oh Anna – I’m so sorry. I know all too well what this feeling feels like. You exist in one strong, beautiful piece even if that spotlight of yours won’t let you see it in the mirror. You are in the harshness of winter right now, it will soon be spring and the sunlight will blur the lines of the spotlight and hopefully let you see the whole. xoxox
I have always felt returning from living away was the hardest culture shock by far. You expressed it perfectly.
I so relate to becoming your cycles, your tww’s. It is so draining and difficult. I was never able not to do that. I will say one thing that changed things a lot surprisingly was stopping temping. Just that one act made a huge difference in my mental health. I don’t know if it would anyone else but I distinctly remember that being very beneficial.
Much love to you my friend.
I had the same exact experience with living in Japan. I expected it to be odd moving there; I did not expect it to be odd moving home.
And ditto your experience with IF.
happy blog-o-versary (had to type it like that or I’d stuff the spelling up!!)
“Lately, I feel like I don’t exist anymore. Like all I am is my desire to have a baby and the path I’ve chosen to try to make that happen. Like all I am is this cycle, and then the next one, and the next one” – oh lord, its like you looked into my head and stole the thoughts therein. Its exactly the same for me, I feel like I’ve lost definition, almost become fuzzy and unfocussed – and my personality has changed so much the previous me would never approve! I have to believe that in the darkness of the future there is something that we’re working towards, if we didn’t have that belief why are we doing this to ourselves? (Perhaps we’re masochists, eh). I’m kinda forced into giving myself a 1-2 month break and even though I usually pooh-pooh the idea of losing time (tempus fugit!!! is one of my favorite sayings), its made a lot of difference. I can focus on my marriage and rekindling it. I can focus on the dog and limpy gooey ear infection. I stopped and looked at the fish yesterday when I was feeding them. Really stopped, looked and saw. I can focus on myself, reading some books. Enjoying some caffeine without the associated guilt trip. Blah blah…you know what I mean. I’m sure returning from Japan would exacerbate these feelings of losing your self. I hope you come out of this strange twilight limbo my friend. I know you will, because you’re strong. Sending you some ‘I get it’ hugs from across the miles. xx
p.s. being ‘all growed up’ really fuckin sucks ass.
Being grown-up does suck. Terribly.
I think of you often. Please know I’m with you through these hard times.
I agree that being a grown up does suck! My boss and I were talking about that yesterday when we were discussing how upset her college daughter gets over the simplest things. Oh, if life were so easy that the biggest thing to cry over was a rough draft of a fine arts project!
When you want something so badly it is so difficult to get out of the cycle that desire creates. I wish you peace because that darkness and longing is so tough.
Hi Anna,
I wish I could give you a big, giant hug. You’ve expressed so beautifully and eloquently that thing I can’t quite articulate — the spotlight feeling. I feel it too — everything existing within the circle of trying. I liked what Emily said about the Spring’s arrival — winter is so long and dark here — I like to be outside and just feel the coming of Spring — maybe you’ll feel it too where you are — the promise that it’s out there — and things will change.
Love to you Anna,
Pam
I’m sorry you’re having a hard time lately. I think you’ve written what so many of us feel.
“I’ve sort of tipped over into the state of doing too much and not wanting to just be with myself and my true feelings.” This really hit a nerve with me, because I do this all the time. When I went to see my therapist one day she asked me about what percentage of the day am I alone with my thoughts. I told her that when I drive I listed to talk radio because music/silence makes me cry. When I sleep, I have headphones in with more talk radio, because I can’t sleep through the night without being distracted. She made me realize I was going 24-hours a day absorbed in distraction to ignore my feelings. It is too painful to immerse in them, sometimes.
Sending you (((((hugs)))))) and the thought that we are all standing there in the spotlight with you…must be a mighty big spotlight.
And, happy blog-o-versary!
Anna I don’t know what to say but I do know exactly where you are at.
Sending you hugs.
Happy Blogoversary !
Being a grown-up does suck: There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to go back to being 12 again. I didn’t feel like my life was compared to everyone else’s, to be considered whether it was successful or not. *hugs*
Hey you, yeah it does suck, being a grown up. This is the hard part. So be in the hard part. To endure.
“Even places that have been shrouded in darkness for billions of years can be illuminated. Even a stone from the bottom of a river can be used to produce fire. Our present sufferings, no matter how dark, have certainly not continued for billions of years-nor will they linger forever. The sun will definitely rise. In fact, its ascent has already begun. “
Just found your blog via your comment at the virtual lushary on Mel’s blog. Your description of these seemingly unrelated life instances seems so appropriate, so poignant…I’m wishing you the best as you continue on this journey. Perhaps knowing that we have others traveling with us helps in some way? I hope so.
I know that it is so difficult to remember when you are trapped in that spotlight, but you, me, all of us, are more than the sum of our infertility.
Thinking of you, dear Anna, and wishing you strength.
you so eloquently put into words so much of what i feel in all this too-
thanks for that- i am sorry you are feeling it though. it is a horrible way to feel-
xo
Happy belated blogoversary!! Yes, being grownup does suck. :p But, having read the L&F, dare I say you’ve found a good reason why you’ve been feeling tired & out of sorts lately?? ; ) (Not sure I have your password — if I do, it’s at home & I’m at the office — just wanted to say I’m thinking of you!) xo
Ah.. reverse culture shocks BLOWS and really an apt analogy for what we’re going through….
And being an adult can really blow as well…
Wish you could have joined me on my Saturday night partying like well very much not like an adult (unless you count drinking 18 year olds as adults, I typically don’t). Good music, olypians, great drinks, and the best party night ever. Some guy even tried to chat me up, and when we moved on to just chatting, he didn’t freak at all when I worked infertility into the conversation cuz well what else have I done this past year but obsess about it and rowing.
Feel free to email or call when you want some escape from adulthood, I think I have regressed to uni days lately:)
hugs I know its hard, I do
Happy bloggaversary! xxx