My Blogaversary?

Somewhere in the vast business of my life, I never posted about the fact that I have now been blogging for 1 year.  In some way, calculating that date is a bit fuzzy.  Technically, it started at on February 14th.  I had this glorious plan of pursuing surrogacy as a way to finally have a family.  After 2 failed attempts, my surrogate got cold feet on the whole business.  She expressed concerns about things in our financial history that a mutual friend (and my mom!) felt the need to impress upon her.  I can’t blame her for backing out.  In a lot of ways, it worked out.  We got to move to Washington, she got to move back to the east coast where her family is.  But between the end of that pursuit, and my roommate finding that blog (and using it to make our already tense living situation even more strained) and that my surrogates then-boyfriend’s-family found my blog and made her life more difficult…. it was really time for a fresh start.  So I started this blog.  On April 13th.  So when’s my “real” blogging anniversary?  Eh, I guess I’ll call it somewhere around here.

As I glance back at my posts, some stick out to me as especially funny, witty, powerful or insightful.  Most though, are a lot of aimless drivel of one complaint or another.  I can see how, if this blog is the only way you knew me, you could very well come to the conclusion that I’m pessimistic, depressed, or at the very least just annoyingly whiny.  I look at those posts, and remember feeling those feelings, and I remember that writing them down helped me to let go of those emotions… but in some cases it helped me to hold onto my sadness and bitterness.  There is a fine line of how exactly blogging can help, and how it can hurt.

I have struggled with clinical depression.  Despair so deep and profound, it seemed the only end in site was an inescapable bitterness.  But the truth is, that I long to be a happy person.  I’m that person, when I hang out with friends and they talk about something negative, I find “the silver lining” in it.  (Much to their annoyance at times, I am sure)  I would so much rather have hope then despair.  It’s easy to choose depression and despair.  And yes, I say “choose”.  Because while the initial emotion is involuntary, the reaction to that emotion in a choice.  Do we get help?  Do we seek help from friends or professionals?  Do we follow through on the advice or steps given to us to change how we think?  Or do we wallow in the pain, masochists finding some distorted sense of comfort in the heartbreak?  It is hard, and scary to change.  As much as we discuss hating the sadness, we also say things like “If I become happy or hopeful, something terrible happens!” which is such a weird statement, like a double negative, because by staying miserable, you think you ensure that bad things wont happen which technically is a form of faith or hope that you can dispel future badness.

One of my co-workers is like this.  Jaded, grumpy, always expecting the worst in people.  She says that if she doesn’t have high expectations, she can’t be disappointed.  But it’s such a lie, because her expectations are disappointment, and that disappointment is met.  We tease each other, because I come off as her opposite.  Cheerful, optimistic, looking for the good in people.

In my darkest moments, I never thought I could be this content.  While I am not arguing that we should bottle up our feelings, we shouldn’t fan the flames of the negative emotions either.  And sometimes, it is good to push ourselves to act happy, and smile, even if we don’t mean it, because it helps to kick us out of our funk, and we “fake it ’til we feel it”.  I would so much rather be happy and optimistic!

The last weekend I was at a women’s retreat, with women from churches all over the Northwest (some came all the way from Montana!)  It was so relaxing, so grounding to refocus on what is important.  I know that faith is a hot button topic, but my faith is what makes such a difference in my life.  I’ve believed a lot of things in my life, but I’ve never denied that there is something out there is bigger than me.  I look at the animals I help every day; dogs run a normal temperature of 100-102 degrees.  If they came in at our normal person temperature of 98.6, we would call that temperature incompatible with life, and we would be taking their situation very critically.  But at the cellular, and molecular level we are so similar!  They have leukocytes, we have leukocytes.  They have epithelial cells, we have epithelial cells.  Their cells hold a nucleus, mitochondria, ribosomes… and so do ours.  So how can something so similar survive or die in such different conditions?  It’s just mind boggling, unless there is something out there, bigger than all of us,that designed us.  Science tells us that if earth was a few degrease closer or further from the sun, this planet would be uninhabitable because it would be too hot or too cold.  So even when I wasn’t Orthodox, I always believed there was something out there.  I could go into a lot more arguments as to why I believe what I believe, but I’m not trying to start a debate or anything here, just trying to recognize that when we realize our life has purpose, our life matters, it makes a difference.  And when we can focus on something other than ourselves, something bigger and more important, it helps to put our life on track.

So that is what I’ve been doing, not blogging, but working and praying and spending quality time with friends and family.  Admittedly, some things got messed up with my insurance, and I’m waiting for those to get ironed out so I can do my annual exam stuff before we take on fertility treatments.  After discussing, praying, and consulting with our priest we will be utilizing our tax return for a round or two of IUI’s (depending on how far we can stretch it/how much it actually ends up costing) once my insurance stuff gets squared away.

That was a little funny.  My ever-practical Hubster had a list of bills we could pay with that money, and I wanted to use it for fertility stuff, so we turned to Father J, and his answer was so straightforward and simple.  Hubster blustered that maybe Father J was oversimplifying, only to realize in the next breath that he himself was probably over thinking, and that simplicity was really the answer we needed.

Palm Sunday is this weekend for us, and then Pascha is next weekend!  One of my first blog posts here on wordpress was about Pascha.  It just strikes me how I’ve come full circle…


2 responses to this post.

  1. Happy blogaversary…sort of? I agree, there are days blogging helps me feel better and days it feels like wallowing. But I was in a pretty deep funk when I started, and it has mostly helped.

    How exciting that you’re moving forward with IUI. Good luck!


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