Somedays I just wonder, is all this really worth it? I struggle every day of my life. Somedays I struggle to crawl out of bed. Other days I struggle not to tear up when I see a baby. Somedays I struggle to control my rage. I struggle every day – and some days like today I just get fucking tired of it all.
I am currently working 60 hour weeks, just hoping and praying for the weekend. Whatever for? When the weekend arrives, I don’t know what to do with myself. My husband and I are tired of the same old distractions – movies, eating out and shopping. We are ready to share those simple pleasures with a little one.
Yesterday was his high school reunion and this is a juncture in life when you have no choice but to contemplate where you stand in it. Everyone we met yesterday except for his old teachers (that are mostly Cath.olic brothers and therefore did not procreate) had children. We got through it alright, but the precious souls that are missing from our lives were painfully missed.
I miss my girls with everything I have. I am tired of bargaing with a God that I hardly speak to – and a God that seems remarkably absent from my life. It is so pathetic – but I still bargain to somehow get them back. Why? Why did they have to die?
I feel hollowed. What is the point of this struggle?
Somedays I wish I could forget my girls – only to remember them in the hereafter. What has the mememory of them done for me? I am saddened, jaded, bitter and skeptical of life. I am not who I used to be. The spark is gone.
Somedays like today – I just don’t see the point of life. Why am I still here? What is left to do?