I’ve been feeling very much like I’m in no (wo)man’s land lately… blogging & real life limbo, if you will. In the worlds of motherloss, infertility, breast cancer aftermath, & pregnancy, I’m just floating, unanchored, somewhere in the middle. I feel so… well, different. Not just physically, although that’s definitely part of it, but emotionally & mentally different. The last time I remember feeling like a sufferer of ADD was when Mama was sick — I found myself completely incapable of focusing on anything other than breast cancer treatments & escaping my soul-sucking job at 5pm every day. In Jan-07, I wrote:

I feel, for the first time in my life, that I have ADD – I really, really, really find it almost impossible to focus. My brain just jumps from one thing to another, and I don’t finish one thing before I’ve wandered off into something else. So at the end of the day – I spend days and even weeks accomplishing nothing… not intentionally, but because something’s really wrong with me. I used to be able to spend hours studying in school without a break – my brain could absorb for hours. And at Jacobsen, I could work for 12 hours straight without even taking a lunch break, and then go home because it was time, not because I was tired. Here, I find myself completely mentally exhausted every day… I watch the minutes tick by to 5pm, and it’s all I can do not to hit the door running. (click here for post.)

And now, I find myself with the same issue, but for very different, much happier reasons. Instead of fear & worry, I’m filled with anticipation & disbelief that this wonderful, glorious thing called pregnancy is actually happening to me. Rather than dreading what the next days or months bring, I can’t wait to experience the next few months.

But as wonderful & exciting as it is, I still find myself becoming frustrated with myself. I want to focus. I want to be able to finish one task before I flit off to another, & not feel like I’m dropping balls left & right. This past week, I received a past due notice for not one, but TWO of our monthly utilities. I’m the one responsible for taking care of our finances & paying our bills, & I just plain ol’ forgot. How did I forget bills I pay every single month? When Bobby talks, I find myself drifting away & I have to forcibly make myself focus on the words coming out of his mouth. Not because he’s boring, or I don’t care about what he’s saying… but because I’m having a serious focus problem these days. I make lists constantly, but then I lose them. Kinda pointless to write crap down if you’re going to promptly misplace the list.

I’m telling myself that it’ll get better after this next week & a half… that once I get some stuff out of the way, I’ll have a chance to regroup. This coming Wednesday is my last day at my job, & I’m just ready to get it over with. I like my little job & I love the kiddos… but I know the end is coming, & so I just want it behind me. Goodbyes make me nervous — I find myself detaching, & other people are always more emotional than me, which makes me feel like a cold-hearted wench. Then Friday, Jen, the girlies & I are heading to Virginia. My cousin’s graduating from high school Friday night, which I know is going to involve seeing a ton of family that I (purposefully) haven’t seen since Mama’s funeral. And then Sunday, we’ll have to go to The Church with my grandparents. We always manage to arrange our visits to conclude on Sunday mornings so that we won’t have to go, but the way this visit is falling, there’s no way we can wiggle out of it. I feel an incredible amount of anxiety when I think about attending The Church… the last time we were there, Mama was there too & they all gathered around her & laid hands on her & pled with God to miraculously heal her, which of course didn’t happen. I felt then & I still feel that overly emotional religious displays such as that Sunday did more harm than anything else… it lends itself to false hope & denial & further feelings of betrayal & guilt that obviously you’re not “worthy” of God’s miraculous healing. I know that that kind of religion comforts Grandma & Grandpa, & I respect that. But for me personally, it makes me twitchy & nervous. It’s just too much like The Church I grew up in — same belief system, same emotional manipulation, same we’re-right-&-everyone-else-is-wrong conviction. I’m trying like mad to deprogram all that stuff, & I’m filled with dread at the knowledge that I’m going to exposed to yet another dose. Meh.

But then it gets better. We spend a few (hopefully pleasant, uneventful days) with Mama’s family & then we come home. And then I sincerely hope that I can get my head focused & clear. And not forget to pay our bills or any other major details that potentially involve having our power disconnected. That’d be nice.

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