I'm struggling again and I can't really blame it on PMS as my period was over 5 days ago. It's this sadness man that has settled and been sitting on my chest. The kind that makes it difficult to breathe, difficult to swallow really; it's just a lump there and it takes everything I have to make it through every minute of my day. I want to hide from life; hide from all the babies, the pregnant ladies, the everything and anything related to kids, to motherhood to fatherhood to any type of hood that I don't belong to. Just that quiet desperation again killing me.
I go for my HSG test (again) for the 3rd time this Monday and I want to hurry up and just get it over with, get to the last chapter of the book I guess you could say; just want to know how this all ends. I'm scared too though, as there is a very big part of me that doesn't want to know...just doesn't want to know. It's going to kill me I feel. I tell Kay this, and I tell Diana this, and I tell Z and Mattie this but they don't seem to understand what I mean. I think this ending might kill me if not literally than emotionally. It's just too sad for me, too sad, too sad, too painful. And really how much can one person endure in one life?
Someone havnig a bad day wrote on facebook today (a site that is no longer the place I once loved to visit), how God never gives you more than you can endure and I think,.. I don't know about that. I once read, and I think it's a valid point, that if that were true there would be nobody in psych wards as aren't too many people in wards those that couldn't handle what they were given? I try not to think of the never having a baby thing as it's too scary and for me, it's one of those, "I don't think I can handle situations". I can go on but it would be a bitter person moving forward...I feel I'm turning into that already, into a bitter person, something I've always dreaded becoming and in fact, Diana and I, when we worked together used to talk about people who went around life with a frown; we called them "People who sucked on lemons"..we still call them this..childish but whateva. Shit, who knew. I am trying to keep the faith...trying trying trying to just trust in God, that he's got my back but there's a very big part of me that has some doubts...fucked up but there it is. I keep praying, keep hoping there is someone hearing me, hearing my desperate prayers.
My life is half over already, more than half probably, considering my history (ex-smoker, obese, with a history of cancer), and I wonder, could I get through the rest with just me? Could I get through the rest just for me, just for little ol' me? There is a woman at work, Jecca, that I've mentioned before. She's 56 or there abouts and getting ready to retire this year. She's been married twice...the first time for a short period and the second to someone about 20 some odd years older who died several years back...no children...she has one sister, also no children and that's it. She's spent some Thanksgivings at a shelter feeding the homeless for lack of somewhere to go on Thanksgiving...fucked up huh? Last year her sister arranged for her a place to go. She spends her nights drinking wine in her huge house and smoking cigarettes. I was tight with her at one time, even invited her to spend Thanksgiving with my family when she had nowhere but she's dicked me a few times and I no longer trust her...that's the one difference between her and I, I have tight friends and I don't dick them, thank God...but I digress... My point is, I don't want that life...that life with no real family of my own...nobody to really love....nobody to cook for, to take care of, to come home to even if it's only on holidays, nobody to make your house a home for. If you came to my home, you would see that it looks like a home. I always imagined that I would be bringing babies here, feeding children here and Diane especially always comments about how cute I've made the place and how warm and inviting it is. It's a very modest home but I've done what I can to make it comfy ( it was a dump when I bought it which is how I was able to afford it at the time). Anyhow, that's what I want. I want children to cook for, to love, to help with their homework, to tuck in, to wash their little clothes and take care of them...that's what I want. I want to be old and have them visit once in a while and have them ask me to bake cookies for them, or whatever becomes their favorite thing that I cook for them. The bottom line is, I want to be a mom. What do you do when that's what you want for your life and it doesn't happen? How do you keep putting one foot in front of the other? I don't know.
No comments:
Post a Comment