The War on Negativity

I’ve decided to issue a moratorium on bitterness, resentment and fear.

I know I’m far from alone in having been subjected to these terrorizing emotions for so long, it seems they’ve taken over every waking second of our lives. I know we’ve been struggling, grappling, trying to make sense of it all and desperate to regain some sense of our former, happier, selves. Like a wounded animal, we retreat to solitary confinement as it feels like our hearts become blacker and shrink with every month, every year, that goes by without our most fervent dream becoming reality: motherhood.

I feel like I keep slipping and sliding around in the muck that my emotional, mental and physical “well-being” has become – a misnomer, at this point, because I obviously DON’T feel well. I haven’t felt well in a really long time. I don’t sleep well, I don’t eat well, I’m angry all the time. I’m jealous, bitter, resentful, sad, scared – all the time. I don’t do anything I used to enjoy doing. I don’t go anywhere. I avoid people. I avoid leaving the confines of my little cocoon of self-imposed isolation because it’s too scary “out there”. I feel trapped in a prison of my own making.

And I’m so sick and tired of feeling this way.

It’s easy for me to blame it on my circumstances, on infertility, on my ensuing isolation, on the words and actions (or lack thereof) of others. I’ve been stewing in a sense of failure, of self-loathing, for so long that I apparently stopped fighting back. At some point, it felt like everything got to be too much; my world caved in and I got buried under all the rubble. I lost my sense of self, I lost the belief that I have skills, talents, and that I’m a good person. I let the actions and words of others define who I was, who I became, because I felt like I was fighting a war on so many fronts that I just got too damn tired to swim against the stream. We have no support, no one to turn to – so I convinced myself that it was all our fault: our fault that we couldn’t get pregnant; our fault that people we put our trust in deceived us; our fault that we’re hurting, angry, sad and alone.

The truth is that I’m at a crossroads, and I have a choice to make. I can keep feeling like crap, I can keep beating myself up, I can let my inner critic convince me that it’s my fault we don’t have any children yet, it’s my fault that we might not be able to, it’s my fault this, that and the other. I can get angry at the world, angry at everyone else’s fecundity, IVF coverage, supportive relationships. I can throw in the towel and just exist in a vacuum of misery that will become a never-ending pity party. I can wait for my marriage to disintegrate because I can’t snap out of it, I can drag my husband down with me as every ounce of love is drained from my heart because everything is dark, angry and bitter – and watch him blame himself for not being able to help me, to make me feel better. I can keep beating myself up about my shortcomings and comparing myself to others with the end result that I feel bad. I can let things I have no control over make me feel like I’m weak. I can despair to the point where I stop getting out of bed altogether.

OR…

I can stop fighting with myself. I can stop pretending. I can stop lying to myself. I can stop comparing myself to others, berating myself for the choices I’ve made. I can stop thinking, and feeling, like not being perfect or not having the same way of doing something as someone else makes me worthless. I can stop hating myself for the fact that my life isn’t exactly the way I thought it would turn out. I can stop judging others just because they’re not having to walk a mile or three million in my shoes, because they haven’t had the same experiences, because they don’t care, because they don’t get it, because they’re doing/saying things that hurt me.  I can stop blaming myself for the things others say and do because, really, it’s not my fault and it’s not something I can change. At the end of the day:

“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die.”

Some days, I feel like I’m dying – both emotionally and physically. I feel raw, I feel beaten down to the point that I don’t even want to try to get up anymore. I just want to tap out. I know those feelings won’t just go away. I know I’m not suddenly going to wake up tomorrow, a reformed pessimist suddenly chipper like I’ve had a lobotomy or a Walt Disney makeover. But I realized, with strange clarity, that I’ve been playing the victim – instead of actually remembering that I’m not weak; I’m not pathetic; I’m not hopeless, hapless, stupid, or a failure.

I’m human.

A few days ago, I got really worked up about a site that I felt had a bunch of posts by women who’ve clearly never had their reproductive abilities called into question. I was so angry at what I felt was a set of completely insensitive, selfish posts that showed absolutely ZERO consideration for women who struggle to conceive. But then I thought – hold on a minute. Why am I getting so angry? This site is clearly run by women who don’t have these problems. Why should they think about infertility when it obviously hasn’t touched their lives? I mean, you don’t see me writing posts about Asperger’s, to throw out some random medical condition. It’s my choice whether or not I read these types of things – so getting angry about something that, technically, I’m not the target audience for is just plain ridiculous. It’s also pointless, because the end result is inevitably detrimental to ME.

I feel like having a family should be considered an inalienable, constitutional right – and that, consequently, all 50 states should be required to carry mandatory IVF insurance. However, the fact that this isn’t actually the case and that the current state of affairs makes me angry does absolutely nothing to change MY situation. I don’t live in a state that has IVF insurance, nor is IVF covered by our medical insurance – not even a portion of it, no cap, nada. But this doesn’t make my situation unique at all – I know there are many others who are in exactly the same boat. It also doesn’t mean that I should get angry at other IFers who do have IVF coverage – it’s not their fault that, apparently, our society considers it more important for a guy to be able to have a boner than for a woman to be able to get pregnant. 

I realized, these past couple of days, that I am so incredibly lucky to have had some wonderful experiences in my life, to have choices and freedoms, to have a roof over my head. I have a husband who loves me to the end of the earth. My life is far from perfect, and I myself am definitely a work in progress. But I know I’m not alone – even if it feels like it. I know that there’s hope, somewhere, out there, for all of us. We can’t know which bend in the road will lead to the next chapter in our lives, but I’m tired of feeling consumed with negativity. I’m tired of getting worked up, seething silently and letting all this crap fester as it chips away at my very soul.

So I’m just going to keep working on ME and try to change my perception of the world around me. I’m going to try to remind myself that I have a choice of how I’m going to receive information and how I’m going to deal with it. Instead of focusing on all the things that make me unhappy, I’m going to focus on the things that make me happy – and work on finding more positive ways to deal with the things I struggle with. Because, at the end of the day, I don’t want to end up being a mother who can’t find the good in small things, the sunshine in spite of the rain, the proverbial silver lining.

Carpe Diem, my friends!!

PS: It goes without saying that reserve the right to occasionally think that someone is a total a$$hat and deserves to be poked in the eye with a really hot french fry rolled in ghost peppers. I’m not bucking for sainthood.

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Hormonal Rage

I wasn’t going to go on this whole diatribe about road rage and how there are entirely too many people who don’t understand the basic concepts normally covered in driver’s ed – but, here I am. At this rate I’m thinking that *when* (positive thinking!!) we have children, I’m going to have to find a way to acquire and drive an M1 Abrams Tank so I can make sure my precious bundle(s) of joy stay safe from all the crazies out there. (Which now makes me totally chuckle because I’m suddenly reminded of the episode of Family Guy where Peter decides that a tank would be the perfect “vehicle” to buy for Meg. LMAO!)

As I was saying…

Apparently, these days using an indicator to signal that you’re about to change lanes is no longer deemed necessary – instead, it’s evident to me that most people give little thought to what could happen if some of us didn’t have excellent brakes and reaction times when faced with a grade A moron who, in dense traffic, decides that YES, this is the perfect time to switch lanes. Without signaling. In fact, why not go ahead and careen your death machine across three lanes of traffic all at once. Because, you know, you should always try things you’ve seen on tv – especially given your totally awesome driving skilllllz, yo! Fo shiz! (Do I need to point out that this is dripping with sarcasm? No? Didn’t think so.)

But it doesn’t stop there, oh no! Instead, I’m also starting to get REALLY annoyed at people who just don’t keep up with the flow of traffic – and then create problems for everyone else because they don’t understand that the left lane is the PASSING lane, not the “cruise as slowly as possible while still keeping vehicle in motion” lane. I actually had a conversation with someone about this a few weeks ago – and she told me that one of her girlfriends admitted to always driving in the left lane “because I just like it more”. I think I may have started twitching and balling my hands into fists to stop myself from screaming WHAAAATTTTT? – followed by a choice selection of profane expletives.

So if you are one of those people – STOP. If you’re going slower than EVERYONE ELSE – and people keep switching to the right lane to pass you – that’s a sign that YOU ARE DRIVING AT THE SPEED OF GRANDMA. So kindly get the hell out of the way, before I decide to trade my current vehicle for a Dodge Ram and decide to live up to their motto that “If you can’t Dodge it, Ram it”.

All of which is just part and parcel when dealing with the strata of population whose subpar intelligence also includes texting while driving (if you have a death wish, do us all a favor and just drink a bottle of bleach instead) and doing your make-up/hair/other cosmetic enhancements while driving (because, yes, of course you want yet another layer of foundation since you lost half of what was previously caked on your face on that shirt you tried on and didn’t buy – thanks for that, btw, not gross AT ALL).

But perhaps the most aggravating thing, to me, are people who don’t understand that you should have at least one hand available for driving – and that using one to smoke and the other to talk on your cell phone is just plain retarded. YES, I’m using that word because that’s exactly what it is. Also? Newsflash, it’s almost 2014 – ever heard of a damn bluetooth device, you troglodyte?

Personally, I think driving laws would benefit from a draconian make-over – such as, no phones if it’s not hands-free, absolutely ZERO tolerance for texting while driving, and if you hold up traffic because you’re doing something other than keeping your eyes on the road and moving to the right lane where you belong if you’re driving at snail’s pace, you should just have your license suspended. Also? Any vehicle that’s meant for construction and or hauling something (like, say, ignitable fuel, construction materials, chainsaws or who the hell knows what else) should not even be allowed to drive in the left lane unless forced to pass an obstacle to avoid an accident. Why? Because when there’s a tractor trailer, construction truck or someone with an RV attached on the back hauling a$$ on the highway – guess what? It takes them much, much longer to come to a halt. So if there’s a problem, or traffic suddenly backs up because Barbie forgot to put on her false eyelashes correctly? That behemoth is going to come crashing into a bunch of cars and cause something awful.

And people who have construction materials and tools shouldn’t be driving fast anyway since it’s a toss-up whether or not they’ve remembered to tie everything down – and you may otherwise find yourself in a predicament like what I went through a few years ago when a chainsaw literally went airborne from the bed of a truck ahead of me and damn near smashed into my windshield. Yes, that actually happened.

Last but not least – people who act like idiots at the gas station. Idiotic behavior such as talking on your cell phone while refueling your vehicle – or being too lazy to actually stand next to your car and getting back into your car while the hose dispensing flammable fuel is left unattended – deserves an extra dose of Gibbs Head Slaps. Especially since you can’t claim that it would hurt seeing as how you’re clearly just using your brain as insulation for your head.

All of this stuff is giving me serious road rage. (Because, you know, it wasn’t obvious from what I’ve written so far. Yep, all about stating the obvious today.) Can someone please explain to me what happened to common sense? Was I in a coma when it died? Or are people just too stupid to think about exactly how many things can go wrong if you’re not paying attention when you’re driving? ARGH!!! (On a side note – DH and I have already had numerous, erhm, “discussions” in regards to our as-yet-to-be-conceivable offspring being allowed to drive. I said not before 21 because as far as I’m concerned, until you’re deemed responsible enough to consume alcohol in moderation, you’re certainly NOT responsible enough to sit behind the wheel and avoid things like vehicular manslaughter. DH thinks I’m being unreasonable because how are they supposed to get to the jobs they’re going to need to pay for college when we’ll be busy paying off our projected IVF debts until we’re in the ground?)

ANYWAY.

I’m feeling hormonal. (Here I go again stating the obvious – tsk tsk!) I know it’s T minus a handful of days before my period, which means yet another month where I get to writhe in pain with absolutely NOTHING to show for decades of suffering. And, just to add insult to injury, all those supplies I have to buy every month aren’t even tax deductible (an oversight? me thinks NOT!) – despite the fact that I have to waste hundreds of dollars a year on something that has as yet to show me ANY kind of tangible benefit.

The good news, though, is that I ran some errands today and everyone I came into contact with was very friendly! I admit that I went out of my way to be super nice as well, but it’s just an awesome feeling when the worst thing I can say about my day is (a) people drive like idiots, (b) there are entirely too many baby bumps around (uhm, hello? it’s autumn – kindly keep your damn fecundity to spring where it belongs and has a choke-hold on all us IFers for months. THIS time of of the year should belong to US! HMPF!!).

The plan is to watch a movie together tonight – which I always enjoy because I almost don’t care what we watch so long as DH is snuggling on the couch with one of the pups and I can feel at peace with the world. Plus, it means I can “steal” some popcorn from him because he loves me too much to say “get your own damn bag of popcorn!”. Ah, the gift of perspective – so nice when I can honestly say that, despite the ups and downs and some teeth-grinding in the car earlier today, I’m happy as a clam.

In other news, today my little blog hit 50 followers – YAY! Thank you for being out there and making me feel like, for all my rants and sometimes (ok, often) irrational fears, anxiety and frustration, I was right to listen to some of my fellow IFers who encouraged me to start a blog. Namaste! 🙂