I keep saying that I'm going to move on...move forward...move wherever. I'm going to be in the present moment. Live life. Focus on the good stuff and all of that other jazz. And then sadness, headache, tummy ache and just plain lowness hits me like a ton of bricks.
That would describe my yesterday. All ready to head off to work when the nausea kicks in. And my head starts pounding. And the tears start flowing.
"Have you talked to N [my therapist] recently?" Chris asks me last night. He's been watching me as I, with a definite lack of enthusiasm, fold my laundry (oh, and he comes home last night to find me huddled up on the couch once again drowning my misery in Animal Planet, the Food Network and movies about which I usually could care less. Did I really need to watch the moderately awful "Valentine's Day" for a third time?)
"No," I reply, "I haven't been to see N in a while."
Chris raises his eyebrows.
"Maybe you should."
"I don't think that I have the energy to re-hash all of this for her," I reply, not looking at him and instead focusing on the t-shirt I'm folding.
"Still," he says and pauses, "I think it might be a good idea."
Well, of course it's a good idea! Seeing my therapist and talking through all of this crap - it's a frickin' brilliant idea! But I don't want to go! I just want to be done with all of this. I want one of our agencies to call today to say that we're on our way. That we'll be doing soon rather than this interminable thinking, wondering, waiting, hoping, agonizing, fretting.
So much for just spending some time in the present moment while not thinking about or writing about all of this adoption stuff.
I'm hoping that today is going to be a good day.
I've had enough of the bad days.
Wish me luck.