Some days life feels like a real bitch. Well, the truth is there are rare days when life does NOT feel like a punishment. I don't know what worse than rock bottom is but I'm pretty sure that's where I am. Honestly, how much further can I sink down? And it is no longer just the loss of my baby. That was rock bottom. It is what feels like the continual downward spiral of everything as a result of that loss. Most days I wonder if it wouldn't be safer to just stay in bed and not let anything attempt to happen, be it good or bad, because it's almost always bad. Without fail. And I know, I've heard it all. I try and tell myself all the same motivational speeches. I understand that life has to go on- believe me- I've lived it for the past 20 months. I keep thinking surely now God or the universe or whoever the hell it is that is in charge will grant me a break- give us just a glimmer of hope that the bad luck that seems to be raining down on our lives is all in our heads. I keep stretching for accomplishments, sure that when I hit that mark then life will turn for the better. If Andy could just get his real estate license--- If we just get away, go on vacation-- if I could just lose 30 pounds-- when I get that adrenaline rush from crossing the finish line-- if we could just get out of debt-- if we could just find my means to start the foundation. Nothing. It is as if every day were a Monday and I am just stuck in this hamster wheel, hoping to reach a better place. And I just keep spinning and spinning, getting more reckless and emotionless as the rotation counts climb. And I fear, every day, what's to come if I can't stop the spinning. If I can't find a purpose. And all I can do is latch onto the memory of my beautiful baby girl. And dream of what life should have been. Willing it to fix itself. To give me back what I should have had. What we should have had.
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| The classic Goose brood. And yet, so beautiful and full of life. |