Disconnected and exhausted

I had a blog post written and ready to go for this morning, but then, this morning happened. And it suddenly wasn’t the content matter that felt important for today.

I’m feeling so disconnected from everyone lately. The past few weeks have been rough. Going from twice a week to once a week in therapy has seemed to trigger it, and I’m really struggling to feel connected in any kind of way.

Withdrawing is my natural response for me. Do you want to call that another form or self sabotage? I don’t know, maybe. But it’s more of a feeling than an action, so I really don’t know.

Nothing I do seems important. Nothing seems to matter. I feel like no one cares, like I’m so disposable and replaceable. I don’t really feel connected to life, in any way that means anything, if that makes sense.

Even though it’s been hard, I am trying to stay present. I’m trying to keep communicating, keep showing up, keep writing….I’m trying. Despite the pull to shut down. There are things I want to talk about with the people in my life that I honestly keep trying to, but I keep not getting the opportunity to. Or I feel like they don’t want to hear from me, so I don’t want to burden them with…me.

My relationship with my husband seems to be slightly hot and cold lately too. Most of the time, my husband and I are good…but I’m definitely starting to see the stress add up and our communication go down. He gets in moods, and I take it personally. I should know better by now not to, but it’s really hard for me.

On top of everything else, I’m just so completely physically exhausted. This pregnancy has truly kicked my ass. And even though I’m only 21 weeks, I had contractions all weekend long to the point where my husband really wanted me to call my doctor and get checked out. But I refuse to be that mom that goes in for nothing.

I’m just feeling kind of apathetic about everything, really. I managed to nap for maybe an hour yesterday, and I still feel completely exhausted and spent this morning. I guess that’s what happens when your nights are riddled with nightmares and sleeplessness.

I’m afraid to call my doctor because last week at my appointment, she pretty much indicated that I’m going to end up on bed rest soon. And I’m too busy for all of that. I’m afraid to reach out to my friends and the people that I need because I know they don’t want to hear from me. (Is that self sabotage? Is all of this?)

I wish I felt better. Both physically and otherwise. This baby is still 3 weeks away from my sort of real hope for viability. And of course, I hope to get there. I’m scared of what’s happening, I’m scared of how I feel, I’m scared of what to do, or not do, and I’m scared of the possible outcomes.

I want to lay in bed and sleep. I want to stop having contractions. Even if they are just Braxton Hicks (false contractions), this is an extreme amount and intensity, which is still problematic. I know I’m high risk, and I hate that I am. Because all I want to do is ignore my pain and my problems, like I always do.

I just feel like giving up. It’s takes too much from me to fight, and I am so, so tired.

I wish I had people. I wish I felt connected, or like I mattered…like I wasn’t just disposable.

My body is failing me, my kids bodies are failing them, and it’s just hard. I just hope, that this one more time, my body is strong enough to support us for just a little while longer.