Sometimes I think about just shutting down my blog. I suck at keeping it updated, some of my earlier posts are sort of embarrassing, I can’t think of anything beyond negative things to talk about…..it’s pretty ridiculous.
But I suppose that’s just where my mind is right now, and where it’s been for almost the last year now. It’s difficult trying to pull myself out of that hole, especially when I live in a world where every day is pretty much the same. We don’t really go out because Noah hates people and noise. He isn’t hitting any milestones so I can’t even really share funny stories or big triumphs or anything like that.
A blog is supposed to expand and grow….but when your life isn’t really going anywhere it’s hard to keep it fresh and interesting.
It’s 3:45 am. I’m awake because I’m stupid and I was watching a shit-ton of music videos on YouTube for absolutely no reason. I get obsessed and distracted with random things, and I feel like I must watch or read ALL THE THINGS before I can get on to something else (ie, sleeping). It’s hard for me to grasp the fact that the internet will be there the next morning, that I can leave the tabs open and close the laptop…haha.
It always seems like once 3 am rolls around…..I get crazier than usual. Probably just because I am overtired, but it’s almost like I turn up the ridiculousness. More often than not if I blog it’s in the middle of the night. It’s when I can’t turn my brain off, when I can’t make the thoughts stop swirling around my head….at least during the day I can quiet them. But once it’s the middle of the night and I’ve caught up on all the shows on the PVR, I have nothing else to distract myself from everything that is trying to drive me insane.
I get into arguments with strangers (ok, I do that during the day too), creep people on Facebook, find myself in the “weird” part of YouTube (you all know what I’m talking about), google random things, whatever.
I started seeing a therapist finally, she wants me to take sleeping pills and anti-depressants. The problem is finding someone who will prescribe them to me. My family doctor pissed me off with the mental health referral fiasco a few months ago and I never want to see him again. Caleb wants me to see an actual psychiatrist so that they can prescribe me medication. But is that going to be another several months before I get my shit together and somehow see someone who can actually prescribe me something? The whole thing freaks me out but I know that at this point I’m letting my anxiety and depression control my life and that isn’t a great way to live. As my therapist said, living in this “low” long term can really screw you up….and I’ve already been living in this for 2 years, if not longer. Have I already ruined myself, in that I’ll never be truly happy again?
I’m supposed to be going back to school in the fall. Possibly getting married in the summer. Hopefully having another baby within the next 2 years or so. Is this permanent low that I seem to be in, going to hold me back in life indefinitely? I can’t even make a phone call to ask about booking a location for our wedding, for pete’s sake. I can’t concentrate hard enough to keep up with BLOGGING (seriously, my Dashboard is full of half finished posts), how on earth am I going to handle extensive amounts of school work? Am I going to fail at my course just like how I failed last time?
I just want to be better.
I remember the dark hole I was in before I got pregnant, and I remember feeling like Noah saved my life. I just want to shed this mask, to stop being so angry about everything. Because that’s basically what it comes down to….I’m angry. I’m angry that there’s no where to really put the blame on what happened to Noah. I’m angry that he has to struggle through life attempting to do things that we “ables” take for granted every single day. I’m angry that people just don’t GET IT, they have “stunt births” that are INSANE because they want the EXPERIENCE. I quite literally want to slap them all in the face….don’t you realize what you are gambling with? It makes me angry that I did everything right when I was pregnant and yet I ended up with a special needs child.
I honestly can’t tell you if I’ll ever stop being angry about that because it’s something that I think about almost literally every day. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to work past this raw pain that I feel every single day of my life. This red hot mixture of disappointment, frustration, grief, what have you.
More than anything I wish that I could go back and feel the same way that I did when I was pregnant….like the world was my oyster and anything and everything was possible. I had so many dreams and wishes for that little boy growing inside of me, and for myself as well. I remember the first day that I felt him kick, and then the next day when I saw Caleb’s face as he saw his son for the first time on the ultrasound machine…..those were possibly the happiest days of my life. I wish that I could harness that feeling and dispense it on my particularly bad days. Because the truth is that I will quite literally never feel like that again…..the next pregnancy will be rife with paranoia and worry, I can already tell. I will never feel that young, that optimistic, ever again.
I may only be 22 but in so many ways I feel ancient. I’m tired of all of this baggage that I have to carry everywhere, you know? It’s wearing me down. I miss being 19 and all the shiny, naive optimism that came with it.
I have recently become obsessed with bow headbands. If I want to be really really honest and psychoanalyze myself, I think it’s mostly because they make me feel young again. I want to feel like I don’t have any responsibilities, like I don’t have what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders.
In any case, I’m going to try to get some sleep now. I will attempt a photo dump later this week sometime.