Friday, June 18, 2010

Mind = Gone (FUCK YOU FF)

I’m so depressed right now, I want to scream. My temp was up this morning so I thought, awesome, I’ll test tomorrow. I feel good. Then I put my temp into FF and it finally gave me cross hairs. Solid ones! THREE FUCKING DAYS AGO, after we gave up and quit having sex. Last month I ovulated way earlier than I ever have before and missed it. This month I ovulated LATE and we were too worn out to keep going. WHAT THE FUCK?

Why is everything conspiring against me to have a child? Am I really that bad of a person that I can’t get one little fucking break?

I don’t know what I believe. I didn’t have any O pain’s three days ago. The only pains I’ve had is constipation and low back pain. I had the tender soreness with painful sex back on day 14. Though four days ago, it was a little tender during sex again but not like before. I want to believe that if I did just O because temps don’t lie, that I have a chance. I had sex the day before O but at the same time I’m so disgusted with the whole situation I just don’t have it in me to do another 2ww and have hope anymore. I was planning to test tomorrow. I guess there’s no point. I just want to curl up in a dark place and cry.

I’ve been trying to have a good week and keep my mind off this mess because I really wanted to believe this was going to be a good cycle. Despite not having cross hairs and thinking I o’d I really wanted to believe it would be okay. DH started back to school and I’ve been super productive each night cleaning the house, cooking, dealing with the garden etc. I’ve gone to bed each night completely exhausted and sore but feeling good about all I’ve accomplished.

I was happy it was Friday. Looking forward to spending tonight in my garden and despite having a million and one errands to do tomorrow, excited about testing in the morning. I felt positive (with a little fear) and was determined to continue my great productivity.

All of that just went out the window. With the solid crosshairs after I’d given up, I deflated like a balloon. I don’t know why I’m more anxious this time around. I don’t know why I’m more neurotic but I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I want off the roller coaster but after three years of trying, two years of charting, I don’t even know how to stop.

We are tired. Sex feels like a chore. I don’t enjoy it at all anymore. I just want it done. Thanks to the meds, my breasts and vag fucking hurt all the time. They are super sensitive and I want to knock his head off when he touches me. Sex is painful. It’s a duty. I don’t like what we’ve become.

And I’m tired of people telling me to relax. I can’t fucking relax you stupid morons. I HAVE TO THINK about this shit. I have to analyze everything. I HAVE TO TAKE MEDS because my stupid body doesn’t fucking work. YOU’VE OBVIOUSLY RELAXED YOUR BRAIN A LITTLE TOO MUCH because you clearly can’t think logically and with any intelligence whatsofuckingever.

I take it back. I don’t want to curl up in a dark place. I WANT TO FUCKING BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF SOMETHING. I need a punching bag, STAT.

My emotions are out of control over this. I’m irrational and I’m mean. I’m not good to be around. The weeds are in trouble tonight because all hell (pissed off me) is breaking loose in my garden tonight. I’ve got to work this emotional tornado out of my system or I’m going to go apeshit on someone and it won’t be pretty. I’m losing my mind.

And just like that I get an email that takes the wind out of my sails.

Law of the Garbage Truck
One day I hopped into a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean he was really friendly. So I asked “Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!” This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call The Law of the Garbage Truck. He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, resentments, anger, and frustration; so keep that little spigot we all have at our side shut off. CHOOSE to not let it in because when you do, it will surely contaminate that great work you have planned for this fantastic day!


I let me emotions get to me but I won’t edit it out. You can see the garbage that I had filling me up and I let myself go. Now I’m back to being depressed and miserable but at least I’m not spewing garbage at everyone. I’m definitely losing my mind.

3 comments:

  1. Even if you did O when FF said, your timing is not awful at all! Don't give up hope just yet.

    I know it is frustrating, but you're not a quitter. I'm still crossing my fingers for you!

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  2. I agree with Mrs. S, timing isn't bad at all! Hey those swimmers and live up to 5 days!! You need to remember "every other day". DH is always texting and reminding me that "its our ON day!" I have crazy ovulation like you so basically we start on CD12-CD26 doing it every other day. One month we tried everyday and both of us couldn't handle it. I mean he could barely come, I was so dry and we both were sick of sex. I tried to look back and see if you had MF and I can't remember if you do so I guess that might not work doing it every other day...I just can't handle that much sex in a row.

    I am going to hold out hope for you this month!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I love you. I love you love you love you.

    ReplyDelete