I’ve tried to write a handful of pieces since the beginning of January that are personal, but I don’t have the inspiration or energy to do it. Life, and all of its wrenches, has left me completely unmotivated and unable to think of anything to write. I feel like I have lost my purpose. This entire past year was dedicated to getting pregnant, and now I’m just floating in the wind, completely directionless. Every day there is an emptiness in my heart, it’s just a hollow shell inside of my chest that somehow keeps pumping blood.
It’s really hard to see any silver linings right now. Ever since I decided to end my goal of getting pregnant, I feel like I have lost all hope, my sails are completely deflated, and there’s just no point to a lot of things. I just feel like I’m back at square one, like everything I did for myself and put myself through was pretty much for nothing. It’s hard to see beyond my grief.
There are days when I lay in bed for a half hour after my alarm goes off, contemplating if I should even go into work, but the sub shortage makes me realize that it would be unfair to others to call in sick. Many days, I feel like I’m just going through the motions of living a life. I smile, I laugh, I make small talk, I do the best I can for my students, but it’s not without a constant aching in my heart. When I get home from work, the deafening silence of an empty home greets me with a smack to my face. There are so many unfulfilled dreams swirling in my head as I make a dinner for one.
Pretty. Fucking. Bleak. I’m not going to end this short piece with anything positive because I don’t feel like there is much to be positive about these days. And that’s all.
