So, you’re probably wondering what I’ve been up to. Well, I graduated. There was a hooding ceremony and since Advisor was otherwise occupied, Husband hooded me. It was pretty awesome and I was very happy I participated.
That was a month and a half ago.
That was also probably the last time I was happy.
So, what’s been going on? Well, as you know, I’ve been trying to get off of my meds so I can try to get pregnant. I had gotten off of my sleeping med. I wasn’t sleeping so great, so I tried Benadryl. Not only did that not help, but then my restless legs started acting up making things worse. From a restless legs website, I found out that sedating antihistamines can aggravate restless legs. So, I stopped the Benadryl, but my legs didn’t go back to normal. My sleep got worse. My depression got worse. My doctor recommended going back on my sleeping meds which was a step backward in the whole trying to have a baby plan. That made me more depressed.
I thought a lot. I thought about how my medicine for restless legs is not approved for pregnancy and there are no human studies for it and how it seems less and less likely that I will be able to go off of it. I thought about not going off of it and what that might do to a future baby and if I could handle having a baby with a birth defect which was quite likely caused by taking a medication. I thought about the odds of us getting to adopt a baby. I thought about how I was recently denied life insurance by two different companies because I take medication for depression and decided the odds of being eligible to adopt a baby were slim to none. Plus, we couldn’t afford it anyway.
I thought a lot about how, when I was younger, I had so many hopes and dreams for the future and how now, at 36, I’ve come to realize that, due to a number of circumstances, many of those dreams are not going to be attainable. Like owning a house. And, maybe having children. And maybe having a career I don’t hate.
And I came to the realization that I hate my life. I hate just about everything about it. I hate where I live for many, many reasons. I hate the fact that the closest family is 1000 miles away. I hate the suburbs. I hate this town. I hate where we live in this town, I hate my apt. complex, I hate my apt. There are a lot of good reasons for living where we do, but that doesn’t stop me from hating it.
I hate my body. I hate that I’ve gained weight since starting grad school. I hate that I have a chronic illness. I hate depression. I hate restless legs. I hate that most nights I sleep on the couch because I can’t fall asleep in the bed. I hate that I wake up in the middle of most nights and have to get up and stretch my legs so I can go back to sleep. I hate the fact that I simultaneously have fine lines around my eyes and zits around my chin. What the hell is up with that? Will I ever not have acne???
I hate that I’m 36 and still have no children and no idea if I ever will have children. I hate seeing other people with children. I hate hearing about other people having babies. I hate making things for other people’s babies.
I hate that I had to get a new doctor upon coming here and that, after having gone through the trouble of finding that doctor, our insurance has changed and she is no longer in network. So, I hate health insurance. I hate that I’m so dependent on health insurance.
I hate that I can’t find a church that I like. I’ve been to several and they all suck in some way and I’ve finally given up on going for the near future.
I hate doing housework. I have never liked doing housework and now I feel obliged to do it because I don’t work. Don’t even get me started on the laundry situation.
I love my husband and like living with him, but I hate that living with him means living in a place I hate.
So there you have it. I officially hate very nearly everything about my life. The amount of stuff that is wrong is so overwhelming, it’s hard to know where to start to fix it. I’m not even sure it is fixable.