Secret Garden

This is a phone entry; don't judge my grammar and punctuation too harshly.

So...I feel like whining about this. Tangents abound.
I don't mean to discount the friends I already have, because I love them, but they happen to be geographically far away...
And you can't expect friends that are so far away to remain as emotionally invested in your life as they did previously. That's not one bit fair. People have lives! Brilliant, wonderful lives that require vigorous...living! I guess I'm feeling jealous that I can't be part of those lives anymore, at least like I used to...but as I said, it's unfair of me, and I'm feverishly striving to overcome it.

I need new social spheres.

I'm tremendously picky about whom I allow to be close to me. I exist in a reality so convoluted by every single memory/color/modicum of stimuli, that I've worked incredibly hard to function in normal society. [Brace yourselves: Adventure Time reference] It's like I'm the Ice King with crazy old wizard-eyes. I still can't figure out how to eat a meal without absently smearing it all over my face. I recognize  that it's not disabling or heart-breaking, as one would see in one with OCD or more severe mental illness, but the truth is I'm incomplete. I think we all are, in our own way. I have an easy time recognizing this as my responsibility, but I have a really difficult time adjusting to the vulnerable position I frequently find myself in.
Interaction is hard. Acting appeals to me for a reason: I've crafted a friendly persona, full of charm and bravado, to present myself as an extrovert. Honestly, I'm not anywhere close to being this person. I'd prefer to run out of the room on most occasions. I have, on some. Contrary to how I may appear, I allow very few people to be close to me. These are people who either have known me many years and have a deep understanding of my more confounding traits, or those with whom I've shared a deep sense of connection, usually through some sort of life-altering event (which include theatrical productions). Or they're Jacob. Trust is paramount, especially since choices of friends in the past has lead to some pretty intense lows for me. And now, with the loss of 97% of my regular and cherished social interaction due to our move, I feel incredibly...lost? Yeah, lost.

How do I even meet people?! And, for the record, I don't trust the Internet. I'm just old enough to have suspicion of all technology while compulsively using it. Plus, I'm not trying to find a soul mate or a sleazy hookup, so I'm pretty limited as far as sites and apps.

I did get a job as a preschool music teacher at a Gymboree Play/Learn. However, I'm tremendously apprehensive over building work friendships, given my previous experience in early childhood education...we'll just see how this pans out.



A long time ago, I found a picture in an old literature textbook that essentially describes my inner-sanctum. It's hard to describe, really. It's presumably set somewhere in Great Britain (Wales, if I could choose). It's a slow-moving brook, littered with smooth stones, surrounded by a deep thicket of trees, bushes, and ivy, which create a tunnel. On one side, a decaying stone wall flanks the pastoral scene, allowing small rays of light in through a crumbling gate. Ivy proliferates. It's dark and gothic, a little romantic, and channels the Secret Garden a bit, although I always found Mary Lennox to be too bitchy for me to appreciate. It's probably imaginary, like an Albert Bierstadt painting, but I think that's where I'd like my soul to end up.  Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm trying to find another soul to invite into my secret ivy grotto, somebody that won't disrupt the flow of the brook it or trample the ivy.

This is all getting really introspective, and really self-involved; I can't continue on this topic. Partly because it's hard writing about vulnerability and loneliness, partly because the dog just farted in my face and I'm utterly disgusted.

Skeever Tail

I haven't exactly been feeling myself lately.

And by lately, I mean the last two months since we've moved across three states.

And by myself, I mean I'm lonely. And hormonal. And slipping back to my all-too-familiar cycle of depression.

And I just don't want to talk about babies right now. For many reasons. The one I'm willing to share is this: I'm starting to get a little worn-down from this process. Being able to focus on other things has allowed my head to clear a little bit. Truthfully, I'm actually feeling relieved about letting this go for an indefinite period of time. I've noticed that for the first time in years, I'm not actually interested in having babies right now, and the pressure I've previously been under hasn't had the same impact. I'll just commit to living my life as it is, then re-approach that issue in the future.

Then again, I wouldn't mind having a mess of little boys running around at some point. So we can have Adventure Time :)

So...we moved. It's hard to move. I don't like change. I don't like being alone all the time. I know I've been extremely vocal about not wanting to leave, and I'm okay with that. I'm proud of my husband and his accomplishments, and I have promised to follow him until I die. That's understood. But I don't have to be happy about moving; that would be unhealthy. I had the most wonderful house, the most wonderful theatre, and the most wonderful friends a girl could ever want. So it was a bit jarring when we left all of this behind. I've been dealing with it as best I can, but there's been a lot of emotional turmoil on my part. I've been pretty lonely, especially since Jacob's been having to commit a lot of time to his new position. Plus, when we moved in, this house TOTALLY SUCKED. I have no other phrase with which to describe it. I mean, the location has been phenomenal, and it's got a lot of potential, but it's taken a lot of work, mostly on my part. I mean, CRIKEY, all the walls were white. PLUS, there were some mysterious poo stains in one of the bathrooms. So uncouth.

I'm mostly lonely, but fortunately, I have the Fay family only an hour away! We've been able to have the whole crew or just Kendra and the kids around a couple times, and it's really wonderful to have "family" around. It's great to have Kendra to talk to, plus I can satiate my baby-longing in terms of some small kids :) I love being "Aunt Katie."
Which reminds me: I want to have a crazy, eclectic house so that when my nieces and nephews visit, they'll think I'm magical. This has been a life-long goal.

But, the thing is, when you move, it cements relationships and makes the times when I see them all the more precious to me. We moved two months ago, and I've already made the trip from Chicagoland to Minnesota three times, twice without Jacob! He tolerates that well, and I hate to leave him missing me for days, but I need social interaction. I really only talk to the dog when I'm here. I've missed my almost daily coffee dates with David (who ended up moving to the cities shortly after I moved; I'm extraordinarily proud and happy about that, but this blog is about me and not David). I miss putting birds on things and singing karaoke with Kristine. I miss Adam and Rachel and not being able to watch little Augustine grow up. And now that Lindsey and Sean are so far away, I have no one to watch Adventure Time or play Cards Against Humanity with. That is, until I come visit. Visiting my friends has been incredible, and I'm once again reminded that our purpose in this world is to love and be loved by others.

Oh, and I play Skyrim now. I'm terrible at video games, but I've always wanted to be a wood elf named Bonerhead.

We went to a jazz-blues festival. Or was it a blues-jazz festival?

June, Ruben, and Aunt Katie. So wonderful!

We appropriately wore nerdy t-shirts and went to the Field Museum. It was awesome.

New appliances are the coolest.

I have a lovely bedroom. ALL MY DOING.

I used to see this on my running route. Now it's being renovated. WHY RUN ANYMORE?

These are other things we've done to our home. Including a hole in the wall.

I got to visit David in the cities. He was the best wedding date/host/pizza box artist ever.

POPPIES WILL MAKE THEM SLEEEEEP!

So today was my last day of therapy. Typically, one doesn't talk about what they achieve or discuss with therapy, however, I'm not very typical. I had originally started going to therapy because I have been suffering from severe depression, particularly in the last six months. My first encountered my therapist, it was revealed that I was highly, highly depressed and needed immediate attention. It was only two months ago. I'm incredibly pleased to say that I have made significant gains. I made a letter revelations about myself, particularly those about what I am worth and the validity of my personality.   I cannot recognize that I'm not crazy, that all of my relationships have developed for a reason, and that I am capable of many many things. And the state of my fertility doesn't dictate my value---that one's important.

Quite frankly, I think it's incredibly impressive that I've made all of these assertions, and it took on the only a matter of weeks to come full circle. I think it's probable that I had it with me the entire time, I was just diluted by unstable brain chemicals. Chemicals, and a pathetic diet. I'm bad at eating.

I only have a little over a week left in Minnesota. I'm doing much better with this than I anticipated. The movers are going to pretty much pack everything that we own, so I'm just waiting around for things to happen. I devoted this time to spending with all of my friends, particularly David and Kristine, as well as the Stanges, the Williamses, and everyone else who has shown us kindness here in this town. Jacob has been out of town for this entire week, so it's been nice to have friends around me. As part of my new lease on life, I've decided to make follow through on some life-long aspirations, things that I've put off just because I was waiting for my family to happen. I've realized that I already have a family because we make our own families in this world. I don't need to wait for anything to happen, I just need to take initiative. That's a pretty convoluted way of saying that I got a tattoo.
It really wasn't that bad; yes it did hurt at times because part of it is over bone, but I could handle it. Since Jacob was in Illinois already, David accompanied me to the tattoo parlor, as I did the same thing for him a year ago. However, David didn't have to be asked to leave due to his inappropriate pantomimes of bathroom problems. Good job, David.
Anyway here's a photo of it that David took right after it was completed. The symbolism behind it involves the poppy goddess, Demeter, as a symbol of depression, loss, and motherhood in both Greek mythology and literature. The stocks of the poppies form two 11's which is my birthday, and the stock of the bud crosses over to form an H for my last name. I drew it; the tattoo artist didn't alter my design at all! So, yeah! I'm pretty solid in this decision, and I'm glad I took the initiative! And, Jacob likes it, so that's a definite plus!

MOTHER OF DWAGONS

Today, the Minnesota house passed a same-sex marriage bill. As many did, I rejoiced. I was completely and utterly elated. This is the Minnesota I always wanted to live in, and I'm proud of all the effort we've made in terms of changing our world for the sake of love and family.
However, as I was watching the live stream of the house debate, nothing infuriated me more than watching opponent after opponent describe the function of marriage as producing offspring. Not creating a loving family or a healthy partnership, but successfully reproducing. Being a straight married woman, I generally am not marginalized in society. I rarely face ridicule or disdain for my intrinsic traits. But, my infertility seems to suggest I am the lesser.
I recognize that I have not faced even a modicum of oppression compared to my friends in the LGBTQ community; the courage with which they face their entire lives just for the sake of love and mere existence is astounding. But it doesn't stop the deep and bitter resentment I feel whenever I hear that argument. It's terribly alienating.
It hasn't helped my outlook that I've been almost entirely bed-ridden for the last two days. I didn't see this one coming; I thought I'd avoided it. But...holy shit. I...almost couldn't take it. It was one of the weird scary ones---I momentarily blacked out walking up the stairs. But fortunately, I fell forward on my hands and knees. It mostly just scared me. But, oh good grief, it hurt so much last night. I almost made Jacob take me to the ER, if for nothing more than just a morphine drip. He talked me out of it, which definitely saved us some money. But I'm struggling with the whole "moving around" thing this week. It kind of added insult to injury while listening to the debate today.



Mother's Day also bugs me every year. I tend to get really sad and reflective upon my failures as a mother. However, I've made a resolution: none of that crap this year. I am done with that. I actually have been doing a lot better in terms of my depression, and my state of limbo has eased up a bit. I am feeling better, BETTER! Better is...for lack of another word...better. I might be...okay. Things will be okay. I don't need to establish my value by the state of my uterus (which sounds ridiculous and archaic, but it's something I struggle with). I am an excellent dog mother to Linus. I've been a very successful nanny and substitute teacher. I've provided many friends with mothering love and support. Some...more than others. I think that's reasonable for my current situation. Yes, I'm not a biological parent yet, but I am still valuable for the woman that I am.

And there's always hope that I can still achieve the rank of "Mother of Dragons."

I am in limbo. This is limbo.

There have been many ups and downs in terms of our future. I don't know how many people actually follow this blog, but about six weeks ago, Jacob accepted a position in Aurora, IL. I'm incredibly proud of him: he's a brilliant young man and absolutely deserves it. Unfortunately, that means we'll have to move. We went house hunting, bought a house, put our (perfect) house on the market, lost the new house, freaked out, then regained the new house. It's been exhausting.

And this might all be happening during one of most severe depressive episodes in years. I've actually had to seek the help of a professional therapist. I usually don't have to do this very often, but I'm making a lot of self revelations.

Mostly, I am so, so lonely most of the time.

It's a weird assertion to make; I am surrounded by many wonderful human beings on this big crazy planet. But it's not always the company that I require.

I'm deeply empathic. I am painfully sensitive. And, worst of all, I am highly vulnerable. It is incredibly difficult to allow anyone into my inner sanctum, despite the air of ease and sociability I may put on. I trust very few, and yet, I frequently place that trust in the wrong hands. I feel everything. EVERYTHING. I internalize all of my pain, uneasiness, hurt, anger, and grief to such a degree that I've developed more than one psychosomatic-induced conditions. It's possible that this is the reason my endometriosis has spread so quickly and severely. I just feel too much. 

I need affection. Constantly. Non-sexual, physical contact built upon trust and the deep understanding of my character. I have always required this, even as a child.  I often consider building myself a hug machine like Temple Grandin. I have those trust issues; I only want affection from those I trust.

Mainly, Jacob.

Jacob has been very, very busy lately. Plus, he's less than thrilled about giving so much affection to one person. I've been left to my own devices during the day. Mostly, I've been alone. Substitute jobs are drying up. I only have so many available companions. And it's just not fair to subject others to my "gray bubble," as Jacob puts it. And, being in limbo, I don't want to foster any new relationships just to leave them behind.

I just...have no idea how to handle myself right now.

I spend way too much time on the Internet; it's almost like having imaginary friends.  I get disgusted with my own attention seeking daily, but I'm too distracted and socially inept to do anything about it.

Deep down, I do know everything will be okay. We will move (June 3rd), we will find new things to do, we will make new friends. But this limbo is absolutely draining me.





(I wrote this on my phone; don't judge my spelling/grammar mistakes too harshly.)

I'm incredibly self-loathing, but I don't particularly like bumming everyone out over it. Here's a cat cuddling with a capybara.

Ugh

So I keep grappling with the very real possibility that I'll never be able to have children. Not only am I suspicious that I'll never be able to conceive, despite four (very unsuccessful) rounds of Clomid, but I'm not sure if we'll ever be able to afford the other options.

It's incredibly...frustrating. I haven't been able to write about anything for a long time. I'm just so tired all the time, and the amount of hormones coursing through me is making it incredibly difficult to manage my chronic depression. I don't know; it's hard to give up on your life-long dream, but on the other hand, when is it time to accept that enough is enough?
Obviously, all of this is completely out of my control. I have to continue my endometriosis treatment, which could potentially result in pregnancy. And, I suppose we'll never stop trying. My hope isn't entirely gone, I'm just trying to base myself in reality. I always need a game plan; that's how I roll.

So, to clarify, I'm not having a pity party. I'm just being realistic. And I'm seething with hormones (which just autocorrected to "holiness"). It makes for a less-than-appealing blog update.