What Now?

It’s the aftermath, my surgery is over. My body feels as if it’s been run over by a Mack truck several times. I think I’ve cried about as much as I can; until the tears begin again and I realize there may never be an emotional end in sight. Learning that I will never be able to have children again probably took the breath out of me just as much as learning that my baby had died. However, in hindsight, finding out the information I did; I am learning to accept this limitation for what it is and appreciate the fact that I was even able to have the two beautiful children that I did.

My therapy appointment was pushed back to 9/11; so I’m certainly looking forward to that and getting back on the horse so to speak. Never thought I’d see the day I was yearning to be put back on medications; but after being without the last 4 months made me truly appreciate how necessary they are for my stability. The last 48 hours have been spent with me trying not to wallow and succumb to this pervasive sadness that is threatening to drown me. I’ve focused on building my website and putting myself out there as a freelance writer; something I’ve been promising myself I was going to do for a long while now. (I did it by the way Official Soul Genius Website Here)

I applied for a writing job with an online magazine and was rejected for not being qualified. I guess not having a fancy degree to give me some pseudo credentials for being a stellar writer makes me less qualified than the fact that I have literally been writing for 21 years and in the last 10 have maintained a web presence of some sort. It’s the first time I think I’ve ever questioned my ability as a writer. But then I had to remind myself that I run 4 different blogs; one that is 3 years old and I contribute to an online hip hop magazine, I wrote my first novel that is pending publishing and I will be published in a poetry anthology by the spring. That’s not too shabby for a writer with no degree.

I realized with a sinking feeling that what I am feeling is a lack of fulfillment. Being mom makes me happy; but the 6-8 hours out of the day that my children are at school I don’t know who I am besides the woman who runs errands for her mom. I need to be doing something constructive with my time. I know I’m cleared to work part time work as long as I am being medicated; so I’ve been searching high and low for a job that will accommodate my ability to be home with my kids by the time they’re out of school. I also realize that I am looking for fulfillment in a position that allows me to be of some use. I want to look into being a rape crisis counselor volunteer, or maybe volunteer in a shelter or work with young teen moms; all of these are things that touch very close to home.

I have to be able to turn my own tragedy into something worthwhile or it will all be for nothing and I simply can’t accept that. I want to be more than the woman who had it rough in life; I want to be a success at the end of all my mess. Most days getting up is a task in a half and I know I should be happy just to be capable to do that; but it’s simply in my nature to never be satisfied unless I am being something to somebody. 

Think that’ll be what I present to my therapist in a couple of weeks….

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