Halloween Pics to come later, after this Pity Party

Josh keeps nudging me to blog more. I don't have a whole to say that isn't terribly dark, and so I've been keeping quiet. The Clomid didn't work and I am feeling incredibly down. I can feel the end of the rope coming up very shortly. There's still upping the Clomid dose left, but any further fertility treatment would have to be completely out of pocket, and that isn't in the budget. The crux of it is that three years ago I quit my job and moved 1200 miles away from everything I've known to start a family and it didn't work. Everything for me, my day-to-day life has been about getting pregnant and making babies. And I could start something else, but I could get pregnant at any time! This month could always be "the month" and as month after month goes by, and it keeps not happening, and my cycles get even more unpredictable and irregular, the crush of all the time wasted, all the lack of success, and all the pressing feelings of deep personal failure and lack of fulfillment in life suddenly go over max capacity and come crashing down.

And that is where I am right now. It has all been so long and so hard that even if I were to give up and do something else with my life now, I don't even know what I would want. There is no light shining through the oppressive rubble of the last three years.

The career I had elsewhere simply does not exist here. I am not eminently qualified to do anything else interesting or fulfilling, or even remotely lucrative, and the economy is terrible. My bleeding heart also feels bad about going out to just go get some job, any job, when there are people who desperately need employment and I just need something else to focus on to drag out of this depression. I feel like I should "get over it" because I "need" gainful employment less than someone else.

All the things that I could ostensibly care about, were I able to find any capacity left to care in this deep dark funk I am in all prettymuch pit me against spending way too much time with pregnant women and living children, a prospect which pushes me even closer to mental breakdown; another rope I can feel the end of nearby.

I do not, from this vantage point, have the ability to believe that "it will happen" for us, or any hope that my body will work like it is supposed to, but I am too stubborn to give up, and too lost to find anything else to latch on to.

Logically, intellectually, I know that I need to find something else to do with my life, to derive meaning from. But I can't find it in me to care.
It would be a great thing to actually have any local friends - a prospect that was easier when it was a matter of finding local mom and playgroups, or becoming involved with La Leche League meetings, or other things that were all orbiting around the new life I was supposed to have as a parent. I don't need to make any NEW friends that will all go off and have babies and leave me behind and stop talking to me because their new world where everything orbits around their life as a parent is oh-so-more interesting than me; I've got plenty of old friends filling that role.

It seems to daunting to literally start out of nowhere and try to find a new life. Everyone is busy in all their own stuff and not terribly interested in someone else. And I don't need any more reason to feel like an emotional charity case.

If anyone in the vicinity who does not have children or any immediate plans to make any, wants to be friends with a slightly rather broken sharp-tongued nerd girl who somewhere under the fog likes computers and video games, photography, food, science, and politics, let me know, but I won't hold my breath.