Frittered away.

It occurs to me that I spend most of my time anticipating what the next bad thing will be in our lives. Really.

And bad things happen to us constantly. We joke that we get all the bad luck ... not that either of us believes in luck. Not that we believe in anything any more. But it's not really a joke. Too many bad things happen to us.

I think that most people believe, whether consciously or not, that if they do all the right things, if they are true to themselves and to others, if they pay all their dues, respect others, if they do all those things, then bad things won't happen to them.

I used to believe that. I don't any more.

Nevertheless, Craig and I continue to be surrounded by people who believe this. These are people who have witnessed first-hand what has happened to us, yet they still believe in the "do the right thing" mantra, because then nothing bad will happen to them.

I don't.

Every time, something bad happens. Sometimes it's really awful. Really bad. And I am so bloody sick of it.

I wonder why? Why do all these things happen? Why to us? How come other people around us have happy lives, with healthy children? Why?

:::

I'm reading a book at the moment. About a woman whose husband died, and about the year which followed his death. She wrote the book.

She said that just before her husband died, he was talking to her about his concern that they had "frittered" their lives away. That their lives didn't count. That their lives had contributed nothing.

I don't believe that their lives contributed nothing. They were both writers, they wrote words, stories, books, screenplays. Their words touched other people's lives. They brought up a daughter. Their lives meant something. But ours don't.

I am frittering away my life. I don't like my life. There are too many things in my life, and around my life, which cause me stress and anxiety. I don't enjoy my life. Sounds like a waste.

Why is it that life is given to many who do nothing with it? Why are those who deliberately do not respect either themselves, or others, the ones who get life? And why is it that those who deserve life, who would make something of it, who appreciate life, why is it they either don't get it, or have it taken from them?

:::

Tomorrow is Kees' birthday. His third.

Another year gone by. A year in which I did nothing. Really. Nothing monumental happened in that year. Another year wasted. Frittered away.

I doubt that year would have been frittered away if Kees had been here with us.

How?

I've been going a bit crazy.

In my mind.

Too much thinking.

We've had some bad news. About Craig's health. Unexpected news. Upsetting news. Health issues which will not go away or get better.

The car has needed more work done. Expensive work.

I still haven't heard from my uncles, except when they rang to say their neighbours were complaining about our car. This is the third (or fourth) time their neighbours have complained about our car, so we'll be parking our car elsewhere from now on.

I still want a child.

But I don't know how to get one.

We could get pregnant with another child, our fourth. But I'm just plain scared another child of ours would die. There's no reason it would, but there's no reason it wouldn't.

We could adopt. But I truly don't believe that we will ever be approved for adoption.

We could use a donor embryo, or take our chances with donor sperm or a donor egg. But Craig fears babies.

Yet, I still desperately want to parent a living child.

So, how?

Will I really spend the rest of my life missing my children? Regretting many, many things? And yearning for a living child?

What an absolutely miserable existence that will be. For me. For Craig.

But all I'm doing at the moment is existing. From day to day. And it's awful. It really is. I have no joy in my life. I have no hope in my life. I see no future. It seems pretty pointless really.

Except. Except, I have Craig. But when I tell him that I am sad, or that I have no hope, or that I see no future, he says that I am enough for him, and therefore he should be enough for me.

How do I explain? How can I say that it's not about him not being enough, that it's about this great big gaping hole in my life where there should be a child? How? Because he does not understand. I've tried to explain, but he does not get it.

And everyone around us, they're just getting on with their lives. They and their children and their grandchildren, they're just getting on with it. And I hate it. I hate it that they all have what I should have. What I had. What I want.

And other people have their babies. And their pregnancies. And their healthy newborns. And I can't stand it. And I'm supposed to be happy for them. But how can I be? How? When I'm so absolutely miserable myself?

I had a meeting with a doctor last week. One of the doctors who will decide whether I'm eligible for a pension. He asked if I took painkillers. And how often I took them. And whether they helped. What an idiot. And these are the people who make decisions which will irrevocably affect my life.

F*ck. My life sucks. No other way to say it.

Over-react

Does anyone else have this?

I over-react to just about everything these days. I know I'm over-reacting because in the old days (ie. before 3 dead children) I could ride just about anything out. Now I freak out at the slightest sign of something "bad".

For example, on the day after christmas, whilst our car was parked in a private hotel car park, someone crashed into it and quickly drove away.

The next morning Craig went to bring the car round, and he found the smashed up bumper and rear light. He was very angry (he also over-reacts) and came to tell me. I quickly became very anxious and upset and went to share that anger and anxiety with the hotel manager, who (obviously) denied any responsiblity. I then shared my anger and anxiety with my two uncles, who looked at me like I was a freak.

We haven't heard anything from my uncles since. Really. We haven't heard from them since we dropped them at their home on the 27th of December. I've sent them two emails, both requiring a response, but to no avail.

I know, people will say I shouldn't read anything into it. But. I know them well. Very well. Their noses are very easily put out of joint. They will think that both Craig and I over-reacted. That we behaved unreasonably. And that we were rude to the hotel manager. In addition, because the trip was a gift from them to us, they will think the way we behaved reflects poorly on them, and that we have been ungrateful.

Seriously.

No matter how many times I tell people about post traumatic stress disorder, they don't really get it. Or they don't really believe it. Because we look normal, we look ok, so we must be ok. And it's been a while now since our last baby died, so we must be getting better.

Really.

Both Craig and I respond to situations very differently now. We were both very senior in our professions and responsible for ourselves, clients/patients and junior staff.

Nowadays, we can barely be responsible for our cats!

But, how to explain that to others? How to explain to someone when we "over-react" that it's because we still suffer the effects of PTSD?

I don't think they really care. Otherwise they wouldn't respond to us the way they do.

Does anyone else have this?