The Face of Heart Failure

I so wanted to re-create the life I had prior to getting sick. I wanted to feel useful and whole again. I never thought in my wildest dreams that me returning to my former employer was going to be anything but good. Boy, was I ever wrong. I cried everyday that I worked and I was just overwhelmed by the entire process. I had to resign and that too felt like a failure.

There was a time when the words used to pour out of me, but now, they don't flow like they used to. Early on, my eriting was from a place of sadness but since I stopped seeing Tony and put all that drama behind me, there's no passion that I once had to express myself through writing. It's like I'm missing the writing just like I'm missing him 

As I lay here I wrestle with the fact that I want more and need more. Life feels stagnant with him, I need someone who's equally yoked not someone who is using me as a means to an end. Could I say no absolutely, but the timing has to be right. I want a clean break with no messy entanglements and I don't want to keep laying next to a stranger.

My therapist suggested I start blogging again, but honestly I don't feel like it. End transmission.

I still don't know why the emptiness remains with me. I try to quiet my mind and be still, but I am so restless and resentful......there I said it out loud. It feels like torment to see all these babies and knowing that you can never have one. Then you read about people putting babies in garbage cans or leaving them on the sides of the road. I cannot for the life of me understand why a person would do that. Be still Susan.....be still.

I feel like something is wrong.  Before my hysterectomy I always "nested" and would cook up a storm. I loved the feeling that my family enjoyed my food. Now my rhythm in the kitchen is off. I no longer get that enjoyment from cooking. I was so frazzled by it that I started throwing my dishes away.  I equated my food with giving  my love, how do I get that back? What do I do now?

The day after my hysterectomy I felt this complete and utter emptiness. Aside from the mountain of drugs  after my surgery, I knew that the change in me was permanent. There would be no way to bear my own children, I would never know what it felt like to have a life grow inside and come through me. I know that an adoption is still a viable option, and I will take the steps to make it happen. Being a mother is still one of my goals, but what they don't tell you, is how long and hard the road will be.