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Up, Up, Up...and then Down: My Internal Monologue

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The past couple of weeks my mood improved overall. I felt less anxious and was even smiling and laughing now and then at work. Fake-smiling is something I do every day, but now and then, my real smile will creep across my face, usually because of a few awesome students I know.

But then today, the day after meeting my therapist, I feel like crap. It isn't the worst I have felt this past month, but I am tired, emotional, distracted, and either spacing out or near tears. It's taking me minutes to write this sentence because my brain is out in left-field. Little thoughts are consuming me, and most of them are inconsequential, but many are connected to a serious, internal debate I keep having with myself about whether or not I need kids in my future.

Here's what has been on the turntable this morning. Do I need kids to be happy? What would I do with my life if I didn't have children? Won't I just die alone if something happened to Brett? Who would take care of us when we are older? I could be brave enough to try some of the things I have always wanted to but never did - cooking classes, dancing, etc. Isn't that just filler for the more meaningful things in life like family? But I'm not close to my family. I feel so alone. 

 The problem is I have no answers for any of these. I can barely focus enough to type these sentences; I'd rather ignore it. Ignore all the things I don't want to face and maybe things will turn out all right. Maybe it will all just go away!

It won't, but god, I want it to. I know I have things to be thankful for, but when I look around me, all I can see are the things I don't have, which sounds terribly selfish and self-centered, but it's honest. I wish I had a family that I spent time with and that loved me for me. I wish I had more friends or people to hang out with because I rely way too heavily on my husband, and I know codependency is unhealthy. I wish I didn't have PCOS, and that being healthy and getting pregnant was easier. I wish my spine wasn't broken so I could walk without pain and do physical activity and enjoy it, but I can't.

I could come up with grandiose solutions or plans, but in the end, I don't finish most things. I give up easily, and I lack proper motivation to carry out the actions I should to live a better of life. Instead, I'd rather crawl back into bed, toss and turn painfully for hours, and hope for a brief moment of sleep.

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