But I also know that corner of me, that corner of me that I would do absolutely anything to vanquish, to silence, to shut up once and for all ... that corner of me that ... will not/cannot process why I'm not worthy ... that corner that I want so much to STOP CARING because it is CHILDISH TO EXPEND ALL THIS ENERGY ON IT (and write about omg), will be scratching at me...gnawing. Knocking at the door like the fucking Land Shark, determined to remind me at every turn that I am not the girl that gets a happy ending ...
She has fucking nailed it. The more I attempt to process the reality of my situation, that hey, you know, all those heartbroken posts on infertility blogs, they aren't just stories anymore, the more I want to run away from it. And I can't. I may shut those thoughts down for an hour, a day, whatever, but it's always in the back of my head, it's always going to come back. Just going to the grocery store anymore is an exercise in hopelessness: inevitably, I pass a person dragging around three or four kids, and I think, it will never be so easy for me and it fucking hurts. I will pass a person with a child that they are showing nothing but contempt for, and I just feel sick. The simple act of just living my life suddenly yields so much sadness and anger that lately I find I just don't want to bother.
Because, like Jane said above, there is nowhere to go to get away from it, there is nothing that can be done to silence it.
No comments:
Post a Comment