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.

I ain't yo' "holla-back" girl.

 This is not a bummer post; it's a really positive one. Almost manic. But you guys don't care, right?



Have I ever mentioned that I love my primary care physician? She's technically not a doctor; she's just a nurse practitioner, but she's incredible all the same.

She mentioned to her nursing student that I was thin today. HA! VICTORY!

Another victory (at least for me, anyway), is the fact that I'll be starting a round of fertility drugs, specifically Clomid, in a couple of weeks. I'm really excited about this, as it means we might actually get somewhere.
Basically, Clomid is a drug that will stimulate my ovaries to produce eggs (which could potentially have the side effect of making more than one baby, but usually not more than two). I'll be on this for a few weeks until the point when they [cough] inseminate me with a [cough] sample from Jacob. It's a bit awkward, but since doing that special kind of dancing hasn't been working for us, I'm pretty much up for anything.
Essentially, we could get pregnant in time for me to get the best birthday present ever. I'm not saying that's likely, but it is a possibility.

If this doesn't work after about 4 cycles, then I get to go to Mayo for some straight-up IVF. Not really interested in that, but if we're going down this road already, we may as well sink money into it before we sink money into the adoption process. It's just the Minnesota Hunerdosse journey, I guess.

For so long, I've been fixating on this, repressing all my feelings about infertility until they weigh upon my heart so heavily until I break down, or channel it into some bizarre project. Or, at least, that's been the cycle to which I've had no relief. But now...ah, but now...there's actual hope.

Hope. So wonderful.

Anyway, I've been doing a lot of work to become less depressed and more functional. Self-esteem boosting, perhaps. I finally got my substitute teaching license and started working again! I'm really looking forward to actually doing a job that influences people (specifically, children). I hope I can instill a sense of value in them...and for the love of God, fix their grammar...

Also, Jacob recently found an article that said because I have severe endometriosis, I'm more likely to be smokin' hot. And, well, I am smokin' hot (that is, when I'm not wearing the clothes of a jam band roadie.) I may have been privy to a surreal recreation of My Fair Lady this weekend, which reaffirmed the fact that my rear end is spectacular and I can still "drop it like it's hot." Not that anyone around me was even remotely interested in my feminine appeal, but no matter: I might be becoming an attractive adult, and this pleases me.

I've also been doing a lot of running. I ran an 8k a while back and this past weekend I ran the Big Gay Race 5k up in Minneapolis. It was awesome; not only did I run reasonably well considering all the people, but it was just incredibly affirming to see thousands of people come out in support of love. Oh, it warmed my heart so!

We got DirectTV, so now I can watch Doctor Who every single damn day (although I've DVRd the most recent episode, so, no spoilers, Sweetie). We can also watch Game of Thrones and Homeland, both of which have earned my seal of approval.  Even better, I can watch old movies from my past, like The Haunting. Holy crap, 13-year-old Katie loves this movie.

This album has helped me turn the corner on depression. As you can see, this isn't the actual cd, just a copy I made for David. I labeled it accordingly.

Bartleby and Clinical Depression

So.

I use this blog as therapy. While I'd like to say it's for all of you, it's for me.
 

I suffer from clinical depression, as most of you know. I'm in a pretty terrible place right now, which is hard for me to admit, but it's just the honest truth. I feel like a lot of bad things happened around me all at once and I have developed absolutely no coping mechanisms. I recognize how stupid it is; I have so many things in this world, and I'm incredibly grateful. But depression, as I've mentioned before, is a nasty, vicious bitch.

When I go through a bad bout of depression, I liken myself to the title character in "Bartleby the Scrivener" (Herman Melville, 1853). For those of you unfamiliar with this particular short story, it details the account of a Wall Street lawyer's interactions with his copyist Bartleby, who slowly detaches from all responsibility (even to his own well-being), dismissing it with the phrase, "I would prefer not to." He goes so far as to become a vagrant, is put in prison, and eventually dies of starvation after "preferring" not to eat. I remember reading it in high school. I've never particularly cared for Melville, as I've always found him ridiculously long-winded, but this story struck me as relevant to my life. I, too, become detached and listless in these situations, and I'd just as well "prefer not to" exist.

This is my lowest point in a long time. I barely moved today. I slept more than I thought I was capable of sleeping. I watched a silent movie. I cried a lot.

 I tend to cry a lot. I'm a crier. It's a pretty typical thing that I do.

 I feel nothing but remorse and regret for the way I've been acting lately, because I've been nothing but clingy and needy to pretty much everyone in my life. It makes me sick to my stomach. The wonderful people in my life deserve so much more than that.

My only usual place for human interaction is temporarily gone. Jacob has insisted that I take a Facebook hiatus. So, now I'm just alone.

Jacob and I had the discussion last night that maybe we should just work on me for a little bit, and take the focus off of having babies. If we want to raise those babies right, I have to be okay. Which, once again, I find it incredibly frustrating that it's only me that's standing in the way of the only thing I truly want: children.

I have to give Jacob a lot of credit. He's wonderful at recognizing when I need help. Unfortunately, he's about as nurturing as a lump of coal. I can sense his good intentions, but I lack the emotional comfort, and that's very difficult to come by. Jacob is the only one who has that responsibility toward me, plus, I can't deny that his love for me is tremendous. It is truly dynamic.

Despite all his faults, very few men would stick with a woman as batshit crazy as me and still maintain the same love for her that he's always had. Dammit, he's wonderful.


If I wasn't so horribly crushed by my own brain, I'd love to blog about all the fun I had at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival this year and how I'm almost ready to start substitute teaching in the Austin Public School District.  But, unfortunately, that'll just have to wait for a time when I'm in better spirits.

Maybe tomorrow?