In 5 Weeks

I was trying to work on this post, and then I quit it, but now I feel like it's still accurate and it's my blog so I should share it.

In 5 weeks...
... Lucy will be two. It's hard to believe it will be two years since the most traumatic event in my whole life. Probably the worst thing that will ever happen to me if there's any justice in the world.

Last year at this time I was having major anxiety about her turning one and that turned out to be just because I was incredibly anxious and depressed leading up to the event, and my depression last fall was some of the worst I had experienced. Last fall I stopped my car on a bridge and it was everything in me to not get out of the car. Last fall I sat on a cliff and wondered why I'm still here and desperately praying to go.

I feel much the same this year. I don't understand the purpose of me still being here and at the same time I'm too tired to care. I'm going through the motions of my every day.

But I'm not happy.

I'm not fulfilled.

I still feel like I'd step in front of a bus should the opportunity arise.

Am I always going to feel this way? Is this really the best there is for me in terms of emotions and well being?

This year has been another series of doctor appointments, lab work, procedures, and we are no closer to finding out why I feel the way I do. I still can't be around pregnant people for long without crying and having anxiety. I struggle with word usage, word spelling, and things I thought I was really good at. I can't do math very well, I could never be in charge of a cash register again. Simple processes are hard for me. I get confused when you give me directions or try to tell me a story. Every day I say that I hate my life and I wish I was dead. I'm developing a fear of needles. I still don't drive with the toddlers, mostly because I'm afraid I'll forget them but also because I can't handle them. I hate being a mom, it brings me no joy anymore. I want to lay in bed every day all day. I miss being adventurous. I miss being a good friend. I'm not a very good friend right now and people are forgetting me. People are forgetting that I'm still impaired, everyone else has moved on but I'm still stuck here. I'm happy I've got my reading speed back up, but I realize that remembering a story is gone. The bright side is that re-reading my books has been nice, it's always a new story even if I've read it countless times.

I'll say my relationship with Matt, oddly, has never been better. Who knew a crisis would be a saving grace to a marriage? I certainly wouldn't have thought so.

I feel like I don't contribute to the house. I feel shame being on disability. I feel like the world is passing me by. I'm scared about my future. I feel guilty that Penelope and Lucy will never know the mom I used to be. They'll never have the best of me, they'll never know it. Olivia and Jackson will always miss the mom they had and continually disappointed in the one they have now.

It's been a rough two years. Then I realize it's only been two years and I sigh because I feel like it's been a lifetime of this. How many more years will I struggle through like this? I can't fathom it.