Monday, September 15, 2014

Kill Switch

I spend an inordinate amount of time analyzing myself. While this trait has proven to be immensely useful in getting through just about anything, there are some days when I just want a break.

A break from my own mind, sounds crazy, right? But the 'me' inside just won't shut the fuck up. Ever. She's an obsessive worrywart with an affinity for downright overkill. Overkill on perceptions, overkill on emotions, just OVERKILL. Quite literally, I wear myself out and I'm left with nothing to give externally because I'm completely tattered internally.

Finding the Switch
MOD introduced me to the term "flipping the switch" when we were working on our rental property. We'd relax away the days, but when it came to working on the house, we'd "flip the switch" and get shit done. We'd get up early, we'd work late, and we'd git 'er done. When we were done, we'd flip the switch off and return to our Tahoe weekends, long hikes, and slowly meander through our days. Just the way we liked it. Just the way I liked me. I'd ride the ebb and flow with seamless precision.

Months turned into more than a year of that dreaded term - TTC (trying to conceive) - and I've completely lost sight of the switch. I'm in this continual overdrive with no brakes.

When we decided to get pregnant, I suppose I was coasting on the naiveté that it would happen quickly and without much thought. And for the most part, that's how it happened. A handful of months and that blessed second line showed up on the pregnancy test. But no sooner had I advertised it to the whole entire world, and we lost it.

A year and a half later, and I'm sitting in my dark office, listening to dark melodies, sobbing over yet another month of effort down the drain. I admit I have lost perspective of anything and everything. I'm defeated and fighting the urge to blame myself, disinterested in nearly everything, and passionate about damn near nothing.

Infertility sucks. It sucks in ways I hadn't imagined. It has robbed me of my self esteem, my passion for even the simplest pleasures, and my new savory relationship with my husband. Somedays, it feels as though it's severed my heart from my body.

And yet, I stare at the calendar once more, calculate dates another time, and take a breath to get back on this fucked up roller coaster. God I hope it's worth it and I can regain what it's cost us both.

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