Eli's Corner



With all the money I’ve spent on therapy, you’d think I’d have a handle on this.  I don’t.  Today I am a relationally inept, sobbing moron.

My shrink’s general take is that my mother was a narcissist, meaning that my needs were never important, so now I have this deep cry to have people see my needs coupled with a crippling inability to make my needs known.  I’m not sure what I think about that first part (I’ve always thought she was more inept than narcissistic…but in this book I’m reading, I’m pretty much the poster child for a narcissist’s progeny.  So there’s that.)  At any rate, whatever the reason, I’ve successfully ensured that I have zero support from pretty much everyone in my life except my husband and my shrink.

Ok…not true.  What I don’t have is the support that I want from the people that I want it from.  That’s more accurate.  And today it’s coming to a head.  For starters, I stayed home from church to avoid being asked why I’m not going to a baby shower for my friend’s “oops” baby.  Background: I MC’d her wedding in August, then she called me afterwards to say she was preggers and keep it on the DL…she literally said, “It was one of those ‘first time’s the charm’ things.”  (No, it wasn’t.  You don’t have to say that. Quite frankly I don’t give a shit whether or not you were having sex before you got married, but fuck you so very much for getting pregnant on accident when you didn’t want to.)  That was my internal monologue.  Externally, I said a lot of nice and supportive things and then hung up the phone and wept for an hour.

I contemplated attending her shower, but my DH talked some sense into me and told me I absolutely did not have to do that.  So I didn’t.  But the shower was immediately after church with a bunch of church ladies, so I skipped church.  This is why I’m sitting at home.

Aaaaaand I get a bunch of emails from my sister.  The anniversary of my Dad’s death was a few days ago, and today she sent me all these sobby emails about how her kids will never know their grandfather.  Granted, that sucks.  But guess what?  She gets the chance to know her kids, so that’s nice.  Also, she knows I’m doing IVF and hasn’t reached out to me about it once.  Not once.  Not a word since I told her about it at Christmas.  She’s my fucking sister.  She sucks.  I’m not sure why she doesn’t make any attempts on this front, but she doesn’t.

Oh, then there’s my potentially-but-we’re-not-sure-yet narcissist mother.  She doesn’t know that I’m on the brink of menopause or that I’m doing IVF.  I had planned on telling her when I was down at Christmas, but there was not a moment of genuine communication between us, and I thought, why?  She is a source of precisely zero support – we’ve spoken about my miscarriage on exactly one occasion…months after the fact…and she offered (by way of comfort, I assume) that she thought she might have had a miscarriage once but she wasn’t sure.  So I figured I’d save the energy of bringing her into the loop on this simply because she gave birth to me.  There’s really no other reason I’d want her to be involved.

Finally, (only nowhere close to finally – I haven’t even started on my in-laws or other friends – but finally for what I’m saying here) my SIL, typically very self-involved, has actually been showing some interest and expressing concern about this, so, feeling a need to connect with someone, I reached out to her today and let her know where I was at in the process and that we’d probably know the # of eggs late next week.  There was some promising back and forth about what the process is actually like, and a little sympathy, which was nice.  Then – POW!  “Then they grow up to be snotty teenagers.  Parenting’s really hard for us right now.  You can be praying about that.”  It was the last straw for me.  I’m sick of taking it up the ass and pretending that people’s myopic comments don’t bug me.  I’m sick of the high road.  It’s painful and lonely.  So I struck back: “Well, you have living children, so that’s a bonus.”  Stupid, but whatever.  She, alarmed that the conversation was turning away from her, wrote back about what their emergency actually was…and she begged me not to tell anyone so I won’t. But seriously. I’m sure it seems big to them, but it’s basically a teenage rite of passage and they need to calm the hell down.  I haven’t written back, because I can only think of dismissive things to say.

I think with this post I’ve officially crossed the line and will now never be able to make this blog public.

I’m angry and sad and lonely and hopped up on a lot of drugs right now.  I’m terrified that it won’t work and terrified that it will.  Work is stressful, life is hectic, and I am barely holding on.  I wish people could understand that without me having to say all of that point blank and begging them to pretend that my shit matters for 10 minutes.  I probably need to work on being vulnerable – but I’m afraid I might actually be surrounded by particularly shitty people.  Of course, children of narcissists tend to think that they’re surrounded by particularly shitty people.  So I probably need to work on being vulnerable.  Some other day.  If I try today, I’m just going to piss everybody off.


My SIL apologized for being insensitive.  Unexpected.  Impressive.  I also apologized for being insensitive, we are now both back to trying to be supportive, and I shall remove her from the List of People I Shall Never Trust Again.  (Can you see what it’s like to live in my head?  Exhausting.)

My mom still totally sucks, though.

Look at that.  I’ve made it through another day.


Author: eli

I'm trying to become a mom. I write about that and other things here. Welcome to my little corner of the web.

9 thoughts on “aaaaaahhhhhhhgggggggggg

  1. Okay, I wrote a big nice post post about who you are not alone, and, do NOT disband your blog. This for you. Not for them, remember?

    I come from a family of infertility (although my mom had 3 kids- 2 young, 1 nine years later).. I never conceived without birth control control; and, because I have epilepsy also, birth control was not really considered as birth ” control” due to the effect the medications have on the hormones, but it was expected to manage the endometriosis (it did not.)

    If you want to feel really better, you can imagine yourself in the best (or worst) parts of Venezuelas. It’s a beautiful place, and I hope it will be our next CanCun

    • Oh my dear. Epilepsy and endo. You’ve had a road to walk. Thank you for the encouragement. And I would very much like to be in Venezuela, although my heart goes out to the people who are suffering there right now. Is that where you are? Algun dia me encantaria ir

      • We moved there when I was six; my sister was born there and she lived there until she was 14. My father changed nationalities in order to open his own business (must have 51% vzln ownership back then). So, now, I’m american, but,…as you can see from all the people around the world, there are a whole bunch of people who’d love to go visit. No, I’m not there, but my father is, in a smaller, safer place (by how much and for how long, who knows.).

  2. I have been an emotional wreck this week… If you’re feeling particularly stabby or upset, I’d blame the Menopur. I am. Having said that, I am also blaming all my friends for being useless turd heads. I think it’s not just physically hard being on these drugs, but the emotional weight of what is happening, what might happen, what might not happen is a big burden hanging over us (which helpfully we have no control over). It’s not easy that’s for sure… hang in there xxxx

    • BB, thank you. I’m sorry about your useless turd head friends, and I’m so very sorry about the cysts. Sorry you’re going through all of this. Thanks for managing to still be supportive and lovely in the middle of it. Don’t know why all the best people seem to be in this boat. None of it makes sense.

  3. My head is obviously on another continent, but what I should have said, what I started out to say, is this is a hard process. Add synthetic hormones, and your world becomes an emotional roller coaster. People do not and cannot even begin to understand what is going on. There were so many times when I was on synarel, and then when going thru real menopause (from surgery), that I’d have to stop, turn to my husband and say, I’m sorry, it’s not me, it’s the hormones. I don’t think that if I hadn’t been thru the 5 1/2 months of forced menopause that I would have recognized that, though. It’s almost impossible to keep all the emotions in, and it gets really old making excuses for other peoples gaffes and my own responses to innocent and everyday situations. I finally learned to just walk away and try to keep my own mouth shut when it seemed obvious that hormones were raging. I quit the synarel just shy of the 6 month mark because when I went on a crying jag for 6 hours at a friends party because the christmas present I gave her was not displayed in a prominent enough position. Really? They thought I had lost my mind. The next morning I woke up and said I was done. It’s either done it’s job or it hasn’t. I either get pregnant or I don’t, but I was done being the crazy woman.

    I hope that this works for. Best of luck.

    I am rooting for you!

    Nice update.

    • Thanks for sharing that story. It helps me feel a little more sane – not because I feel like I wouldn’t do that, but because I would TOTALLY potentially do that right now. I feel like I need to stay away from polite society for a while. Fortunately, this is a matter of weeks, not months. (Although endometrin makes me crazy too, and if I’m lucky enough to have this work, then I’ll be on that for a while…but at that point, it would all be so worth it.) Thanks for rooting for me. It does help.

  4. Oh hun I’m so sorry. This is so hard. I totally understand not being able to count on the people who you want to count on during this process. How everything gets turned upside down. To top it off you’re on some pretty heavy duty hormones that don’t help the mindset. Please know that you have us here rooting for you constantly and sending you love even if you can’t see us. Huge hugs xxx

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