I was talking to a friend the other night. She recounted the previous evening, when she went out until the wee hours to a bunch of amazing Boston bars with some friends. For half a second, I wished I went with her. But pretty quickly, I realized how unlikely that was. Not because I don't enjoy a fabulous cocktail or her company, but because I am physically unable to sustain that kind of energy these days.
In the not too distant past, I worked out 3-5 days per week. I went directly from a full day of teaching to a spin class or personal training session. Often, I would even go to a friend's house to hang out for a bit after the gym. I also socialized a lot - especially on weekends. In fact, KG was usually the one who was more likely to stay home, happy as a clam. But me? I went places. I did stuff. I was one of the cool kids.
Lately? Not so much. And by lately, I mean the last 9 months or so. These days it is literally all I can do to get myself through the school day, pour myself back into my car,
The level of fatigue I feel goes beyond the usual cures. Sleeping in, cat naps, or some extreme cleanse aren't going to cut it. I don't know how to describe this kind of tired. It's more than my body. My whole being is tired.
So when did it all change? I can track it back almost to the minute we decided to pull out the big guns with IF treatment. It seems like within days of starting my first serious treatment cycle, my ability to multi-task began to wane. Any extra energy I had went directly to adjusting to the idea that any baby of ours was not going to come from nature. It took me much longer than expected to get past the initial shock of that fact. A lot longer.
Although we have now completely accepted our relationship with the petri dish, I still feel like I can only put my emotional energy into this pursuit right now. Granted, I have a whole lot of Lupron flowing through my veins right now, which definitely amplifies all of this. But, even when I am not in a treatment cycle, the same is often true. I just don't have it in me to sit on that spin bike or make it to the third bar on a pub crawl. I have no capacity to push myself when I am being pushed to my limit as it is.
Are some weeks better than others? Yes. Do I sometimes leave the house and make the effort to see my friends? Yes. Does it take a lot more motivation and effort than it did a year ago?
You bet your ass it does.
The level of lameness I feel about this is considerable. I am 31 years old and some days I feel much older. I don't want much more time to go by like this. At some point, I have to turn things around and get some of my life force back. The question is: how?
Everyone, including my therapist, tells me to be forgiving of myself and that someday my old self will return. I just hope I'll recognize her when she makes her appearance.
Recently, I realized Mo and I have something in common - a deep love of Faith No More. Don't even get me started on how jealous I am of her planned trip to see them at a live festival.
This song, "Last Cup of Sorrow" is probably my favorite. The chorus speaks to me on days like these.
So raise it up and lets propose a toast.
To the thing that hurts you most.
It's your last cup of sorrow.
What can you say?
Finish it today.