My old nemesis, Depression, is knocking on my door. I never care for its visits-draining me of energy, happiness, and any joy I may have in life. This month has been really hard. To have my hopes dashed for the millionth time has set off a chain reaction that I cannot seem to stop. I think the largest part of my pain lies in the fact that everyone I know is moving ahead with their parental goals or plans, and as always, I'm left behind. Either my friends are pregnant (most unexpectedly), "paper" pregnant (in the process of adoption), or have already adopted. All I have is the desire to be a parent. I am so, so, SO very happy for all of my friends, yet after 8 years of this shit, I'm ready to move on and join them.
We can't conceive a child, and in no way, shape, or form do I want to pursue ART anymore, yet I cannot start any of the adoption proceedings that I so desperately wish I could. We are in no way prepared to even start a home study-our home is too small, and we're thinking of downsizing to a one bedroom apartment for awhile just to save money to pay off our debts.
Debt-yet another reason that our adoption proceedings are delayed. I know, it's our (well, mostly my) fault for letting spending get out of control. Until our debts are paid down, we cannot buy a house, or pay an agency to pursue an adoption. I'm so sick of staying in this holding pattern-it's repetitive, boring, and most of all frustrating. I'm almost 30, and yet I don't feel like an adult. Most of the milestones that define adulthood: college graduate, homeowner, parent, I have yet to reach.
I guess I'm just sad, frustrated, and burned out to some degree. I know only I can change my circumstances, and my outlook, but I guess I just have to wallow in it for a day or so. I'll be OK, I always am, eventually.