I have a friend who is heartbroken and grieving her 3rd miscarriage. Her latest post reads:
Somehow I find myself struggling to wake up in the morning. Not just this morning, but every morning. This is a black abyss that I find myself swimming in. I can’t decide if it’s depression, anxiety, lack of motivation, loss of interest, a breakdown, or just what my life has become. I’m at a standstill. I had a mess of a life as a teenager, I made some risky decisions yet I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I had things to look forward to. I had wonderful friends. I had more time on my hands than I ever thought I would miss, I had less bills and more freedom. I had somewhere to go every night that resulted in the best memories and lasting friendships, I went to college earlier than most of my classmates to get ahead and I didn’t care to be stuck with the same people for the next 2 years. I was an extrovert for the first part of my life. I had a lot of friends and was social with everyone.
As I got burnt little by little I began to notice it’s safer in a smaller circle. I pushed all of my energy into a creative outlet. Music, art and self-expression. I often think of what the past had given me but I know that is not the place we were meant to stay. The time is now, the present. Where I get up at 8 every morning after a restless sleep, put on the bare minimum of makeup just to cover up the bags under my eyes, get dressed with the same outfits I’ve been wearing for 2 years, let the dogs out and yell at them to come back when they run away. I leave the house at 8:30 on the dot, I used to stop to get a Mountain Dew and something terrible for breakfast (now I’m eating healthy which hasn’t helped). I would punch into work where the only good thing is my co-workers.
I don’t make enough for it to amount to much even with a degree. And I’m glad my husband makes so much at his job but I am so tired of making half as much with more college experience and to be told that I don’t know what “work” is or that my job isn’t really a job. I do wish I had a job where I could exhaust myself, where I could do something I enjoy and not sit around waiting for quitting time. And at the rate I’m going I’ll be in debt until I die. I go to my second job where I don’t mind the work, but I make even less, and it partially feels like high school. I get home around 10:45 to either a quiet house, or a party and when it’s either one I want the opposite. I have a few days off a week but I don’t always have the motivation to clean up the mess I haven’t been home to make because I never have any drive to do anything but sleep. My life has become so routine to which the excitement I do get is out of spending money I don’t have and going to bed so I can rest my exhausted mind and body.
Don’t get me wrong I have done some memorable things this past year. I got a second job, I got my first tattoo, I got married, I lost another child, I quit school, I bought a house, I got another dog only to have him injured and pay for him 14x over, and I’ve spent the least amount of time in record history with my family and friends. So there’s that. If I can make it through 2015 without someone dying also that would be great. It seems as though I find myself losing people too frequently. I’ve lost a father, grandparents, children, an uncle, family friends, friends, classmates and military buddies. I know that I’m not the only one to suffer loss and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone but when you lose someone, it changes you. And it keeps changing you. Not a day goes by when I don’t wish I could have them back, but I won’t get and that’s when you know you’ve lost your mind.
You don’t ever stop wishing for the impossible. I constantly wonder if I have sold myself short. What is it that I’m missing, why do I not do the things I enjoy? Why don’t I write, play guitar, sing, attend concerts, draw, paint or use the imagination that I was blessed with. All it seems to be good for is leading me down the path of “what my life could be”. My father always said don’t bother with the “what if’s” they’ll never get you anywhere. In a happy world I would wake up ready to tackle the day, looking forward to my job. I hope to work on projects where I matter and I can’t wait to go back again. I want to make a difference. I want to come home to my happy, supportive and appreciative husband, crazy and unique children whom I can call my own, go on adventures, travel and experience life instead of just surviving it.
I know how to count my blessings and trust me when I say that I have many. I am with a man I love, in a home we own, with pets who adore me, a car that runs and friends and family who care very much. I am thankful that I have a job, let alone 2. I’m thankful for enough money left after bills to buy food for our family. I’m thankful for it all, but I doesn’t make it better. And this is where I know I have a problem. I’m surrounded by blessings and I still feel this way. Ernest Hemingway once said, “Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know”. Many people die at 25 and aren’t buried until they are 80. I don’t want that to be me. I don’t’ want to let the flame die out because I know that I have passion and I have drive, I just need to find the way to uncover it and actually use it.
I’ve tried to seek support but I don’t always find my answers and relief is temporary, which leaves me discouraged. Eventually I realize that numb is my emotion. Numb is familiar. I try not to react badly to anything anymore but little did I know that fiving up the bad was to give up the good as well. You can’t just turn off sadness, or the ability to get mad without losing the ability to be happy or hopeful. The worst part about this type of situation is that you don’t feel anything. No pain, no happiness. Just empty and you can’t even explain it which is frustrating to myself and others. And when you suffer this way, simply existing is a full time job.