(Originally posted in LiveJournal)
I’ve been realizing more and more lately that the last two years of miscarriages and fertility treatments have left me broken. I’ve been fighting being broken, but in reality, I’ve just been in denial. I’m changed. Maybe forever. Actually, for sure forever. And it’s not over yet. And I don’t know what that means for how this proceeds. For how I get unbroken. How can you even begin to figure out how to put the pieces back together when what’s left of you is still teetering on the edge and you know there are still strong winds ahead?
I know I am sounding like an angsty teenager, but I am in rough shape these days. Perhaps I just need my medication dose increased to help numb me back up again. I’m back in recluse mode. I rarely, if ever, see friends. I work my life away because I just don’t know what else to do. I don’t have much to say about anything and I even bore myself. Perhaps I will try to get the dose of the meds increased.