Monday, July 12, 2010
Loser Ville Vancouver BC: Confessions of a Barren Babe
We didn't get the house... Which is fine. The end of the world did not appear as earlier predicted. My self esteem however took an enormous dive. It was so low I think it even explored the underworld.
These are an honest transcribe of my thoughts for the past couple of days and this should be preempted by saying I have been surrounded by numerous pregnancy/birth announcements lately:
I'm a giant loser
I can't have a baby, I can't buy the house, my life is being wasted
I just want a break from this. Buying a house and running part of it as a business would have been the perfect break from this chaos. I just don't know what to do to make this all easier.
I failed in the most obvious of ways and because of this failure we have spent thousands that would have put us in a better position. Without the adoption and refinancing our condo, the house could have been ours. I hate that guilt.
I'm an asshole because others would kill to be in our financial position and I'm devastated not getting a house others may never afford.
I'm a bigger asshole because I don't really care.
I feel trapped. I love the idea of moving away. For years now I have wanted to move, England being my top contender. New York and Toronto are also both practical options for Doug's current employment. We can't leave the country until the adoption is finished, and it's a headache in fees to even move across the country during this. I don't like feeling caged.
I could have finished school by now. There are definitely times when that wasn't possible and I worked a few jobs at a time in order for things in our life to work. However if I stayed in school this summer and for the next year I'd be close to done. I find it too much though. I'm too erratic in my moods at this time and University is stressful. I feel like I'm failing at being intelligent. Failing in my ambitions.
Stagnant. I look at the almost done nursery and I realize the summer referral I predicted is not going to happen. I now hope for one before Christmas. Time isn't the biggest issue here. I know six years is a long time, and I know 3.5 years is a long adoption, but it's the issue of not being able to make the decisions we want to make. We don't have a say, and making plans doesn't work. I suppose the theory is live like you're not expecting to be a parent, but I'm not sure that's possible. It's like living ignoring that migraine you have day in and day out.
I want to move to St.Marie Meade and be an 80 year old crime solving old biddy. Let's just skip this part all together and hop to scotch mints, knitting, and visiting nieces and nephews. I'll call myself Miss Marble instead of Miss Marple and hope Agatha Christie doesn't mind me stealing her character's life.
Ugh. Double Ugh. Ugh, Ugh. I shall follow in Pierre Burton's footsteps and write a book in which the only word spoken is "ugh". It shall be the story of my life as told through my extremely whiny narration.
I want to start yelling 'it's not fair' at everyone. Now, life is far from fair and if life were actually fair my life would probably be much poopier but this is my whiny rant session and since when does logic intercede with pity parties?
Those are my Monday thoughts in a million words or less. I know everything will be fine but today I'm still disappointed. I could apologize for my ungratefulness and my childlike tantrum but I don't want to. Perhaps disappointments hit me harder because they trigger a thousand other emotions. Perhaps I just don't have the foresight and wisdom right now to be philosophical. Perhaps I just don't like Mondays!
Onwards and upwards my friends. Onwards and upwards.