I am feeling so disconnected. Surprisingly jealous. I am hoping it's just chemicals associated with menopause. I am ironically in huge need of attention, and yet I am systematically withdrawing from all communities I've been a part of. I just retired from "By Common Consent" because I couldn't handle the contention--and I was actually, ridiculously hurt by the fact that every other permablogger got baklava for Christmas and I didn't. I find I'm withdrawing from family. I see my siblings with their outstanding children, and I am aching so powerfully under my forced smile. I feel like an utter failure, and I know that I am being judged all the time. I say little to anyone. I love my husband, but feel guilty talking to him about too much because he is carrying so many burdens right now as a bishop. I can talk to Papa D, but the truth is, his depression is getting to me fiercely and I find no words of hope to SINCERELY give him. The third person I have confided in is a young missionary. But that will end as soon as his mission ends. And I find myself jealous of the older missionary couple there, who have his full affection. All I can do is send him letters and gifts, which I do for all the missionaries. He sends me short messages on Thursdays, but no letters. He expresses gratitude, but I feel that my use to him is just about over. I will send him one more bottle of ginseng, a few more letters, and then he will return home and his focus will go to young women. Our relationship will become a few-times-a-year communication. Will Darius die? I think he might. Then I will have only one real friend: my husband. I wonder if I will ever be able to really talk to him without him giving me sermons in reply, or letting me know how overwhelmed he is already. I feel utterly alone and have thought tangentially about how nice it would be to die. I would never take my own life, but if I got cancer, I would not treat it. I wonder if I will ever feel joy again.
2 comments:
Menopause--
periods go crazy, floods with no warnings, exhaustion, irritability. Much better to live in a cave.
I am feeling so disconnected. Surprisingly jealous. I am hoping it's just chemicals associated with menopause. I am ironically in huge need of attention, and yet I am systematically withdrawing from all communities I've been a part of. I just retired from "By Common Consent" because I couldn't handle the contention--and I was actually, ridiculously hurt by the fact that every other permablogger got baklava for Christmas and I didn't.
I find I'm withdrawing from family. I see my siblings with their outstanding children, and I am aching so powerfully under my forced smile. I feel like an utter failure, and I know that I am being judged all the time. I say little to anyone.
I love my husband, but feel guilty talking to him about too much because he is carrying so many burdens right now as a bishop. I can talk to Papa D, but the truth is, his depression is getting to me fiercely and I find no words of hope to SINCERELY give him. The third person I have confided in is a young missionary. But that will end as soon as his mission ends. And I find myself jealous of the older missionary couple there, who have his full affection. All I can do is send him letters and gifts, which I do for all the missionaries. He sends me short messages on Thursdays, but no letters. He expresses gratitude, but I feel that my use to him is just about over. I will send him one more bottle of ginseng, a few more letters, and then he will return home and his focus will go to young women. Our relationship will become a few-times-a-year communication. Will Darius die? I think he might. Then I will have only one real friend: my husband. I wonder if I will ever be able to really talk to him without him giving me sermons in reply, or letting me know how overwhelmed he is already. I feel utterly alone and have thought tangentially about how nice it would be to die. I would never take my own life, but if I got cancer, I would not treat it.
I wonder if I will ever feel joy again.
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