Stowaway
I have a stowaway. It clings to me...all day...all night. It follows me from room to room. It runs with me, showers with me, jumps into bed with me.
At night when I try to sleep, it demands my attention. It entwines itself around me. It whispers to me.
It brings out my demons.
It chases away my slumber. I can't sleep.
I can't eat. I can't think. I can't focus.
It takes herculean strength to keep myself anchored, to not soar off into the abyss. Sometimes the abyss pulls me from the other direction. I have no hope.
And in the morning, before I've even opened my eyes, my stowaway leaps into bed with me...clings to me.
My stowaway is my thoughts...and all of my thoughts are of you...infertility.
It’s a constant distraction. It’s impossible to focus. My work takes twice as long. I read the same lines over and over. I must focus. I can't focus.
Damn you infertility!
Cloudy Thoughts by James E. Thurman via Etsy |
This is a very moving description of such a horrible sensation. I am so sorry that you or anyone else has to feel this way. I just want you to know you are not alone.
ReplyDeleteI know the feeling all too well, and today I wish for you a clear head, if only for a hour. Thinking of you!
ReplyDeleteugh, hate that bitch.I'm sorry :(.
ReplyDeleteI also know that stowaway (great analogy BTW). There's really nothing you can do to get rid of it, you just have to live with it there. It gets lighter when you are pregnant and after you have a child, but it's never totally gone.
ReplyDeletevery poetic analogy - I know that feeling - I hope that you get a better kind of stowaway in your belly very soon!
ReplyDeleteGreat metaphor. Incredibly relatable. Freaking hate this stowaway - monkey on our backs. Ugh.
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