ever the optimist…

…I bought Always pads along with my OPK (ovulation predictor kit) sticks.

Sarcasm intended.

Also experienced some very angry feelings as I was buying OPKs. I kept thinking… I shouldn’t have to do this, ever again. I should’ve NEVER EVER had to buy this shit again.

I had a therapist appointment today, and it was especially helpful as a way to get me more emotional. I’ve been working almost every day, 12 hours, to make money for the garden and the gravestone, and haven’t had a whole lot of time for emotions. After therapy it suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks. I am SAD. I am really, truly, deeply, horribly sad. I get through my day on auto-pilot a lot of the time, and somehow even manage to pretend like I’m not sad. But it’s a lie. Just under the surface lies a deep dark well of sadness. I’m just trying to tread water and stay afloat.

Author: Mother of All Things

Mother by fostering, adoption, and marriage... wife to my best friend... Bay area critical care nurse... travel in my blood, reading in my bones, clean food on my mind!

4 thoughts on “ever the optimist…”

  1. The deep scars that come from tragedy and loss will continue to surface and shape your life for years. Within 2 years of my fathers death, my LASIK eye surgery (5 years old and had been perfect) completely reversed and now there’s not enough tissue to try correction again, I became allergic for the first time ever to everything indoors, and they believe the stress is the only reasonable explanation for my premature menopause (as well as stress being the only factor changing in my life in regards to vision and allergies). Add to that TMJ, panic attacks, and the “acceptable” to the public displays of depression…it’s not a game. I kinda started wondering if all the emotion could really put my life at risk. Last January I realized that my lack of dealing with it all as came at me was going to possibly bring the stress that killed my dad, and I changed my lifestyle completely. It all sucks, there’s no way around it, but hopefully, you’re able to find some people, some friends that you can just pour it all out to, because they’ve been there, or have dealt with similar blows. We’re here to listen…to read…let it out.

  2. Sweet mama…I have not walked your path, but I have walked beside a dear friend in a terribly similar one.
    I found your blog through Fosterhood NY as I am in the midst of licensing to foster more full time. I have done respite in the past for friends who foster.
    I didn’t want to just be a reader & not extend my hand at least to say that you are wickedly strong in sharing your stories & remembering your little loves.
    Whether a child is yours in your arms or held in your heart you have the soul of a mother.
    Thank you for allowing me (and others) to love our friends, families or ourselves through dark times of loss. It helps to know what to say or do.
    I wish I had more comfort to give you. But I wish you the very best.

    Eve

  3. Yup, been there. I actually hate the weekends lately, especially long weekends, because it all comes bubbling up. During the work week, I can function and can almost fool myself into thinking I’m a normal person because I’m too busy to fall apart. But, oh those, weekends, how that sadness catches up to me…. Thinking of you.

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