My therapist tells me that spring is the worst season for the mental health industry--people think it's the holidays, christmas and such, but that it's actually now. She says that when the world starts to come into bloom, come alive and flourish, and a depressive is still gray and wintery, the feeling of isolation intensifies and things get critical.
I'd like to say that I adore spring and I always have. I love the verve and the new vigor! This depressive is thrilled as hell to see pink blossoms on the cherry tree out back, and garish forsythia waving on every street corner! I'm glad of the warmer (but not too warm) weather, and the urge for renewal.
And this is the first spring in many, many springs that my biological clock hasn't been ringing off the hook! This spring I feel pretty comfortable in my decision that babies may just be a never in my life. I'm enjoying the nieces and babies of friends very much. I am excited for two more to join the ranks in the next couple of months. People are announcing, and growing round, and planning nurseries and picking out names I'll doubtlessly disapprove of, and for once in my life I've realized that hey--I've been wanting children for ALL THE WRONG REASONS.
I've been wanting to fill a void. I've had all the most selfish, silly, inane, unbelievablyidiotic ideas about children and life and parenting, and thank god I didn't get myself knocked up younger.
I will be perfectly content to die childless--so long as that's what Aaron and I finally resolve.
For now we're in a 'let's not think about it for now, and we'll revisit the topic in a few years...maybe...if we can see over the mountain of debt..." situation.
So, while I feel for my sisters out there who long for procreation at this fertile time of year, I have to sigh (with so much genuine relief I can't even tell you!), and relax, and enjoy the spring for what it is, and not for what it should be, or could, be, or would be if only...
Back to school tomorrow. Bleck.
I'd like to say that I adore spring and I always have. I love the verve and the new vigor! This depressive is thrilled as hell to see pink blossoms on the cherry tree out back, and garish forsythia waving on every street corner! I'm glad of the warmer (but not too warm) weather, and the urge for renewal.
And this is the first spring in many, many springs that my biological clock hasn't been ringing off the hook! This spring I feel pretty comfortable in my decision that babies may just be a never in my life. I'm enjoying the nieces and babies of friends very much. I am excited for two more to join the ranks in the next couple of months. People are announcing, and growing round, and planning nurseries and picking out names I'll doubtlessly disapprove of, and for once in my life I've realized that hey--I've been wanting children for ALL THE WRONG REASONS.
I've been wanting to fill a void. I've had all the most selfish, silly, inane, unbelievablyidiotic ideas about children and life and parenting, and thank god I didn't get myself knocked up younger.
I will be perfectly content to die childless--so long as that's what Aaron and I finally resolve.
For now we're in a 'let's not think about it for now, and we'll revisit the topic in a few years...maybe...if we can see over the mountain of debt..." situation.
So, while I feel for my sisters out there who long for procreation at this fertile time of year, I have to sigh (with so much genuine relief I can't even tell you!), and relax, and enjoy the spring for what it is, and not for what it should be, or could, be, or would be if only...
Back to school tomorrow. Bleck.
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