Flashback: Incomplete and broken

Originally posted 12 January, 2016

Incomplete and broken. This is the story of my life. There is not one aspect of my life you can point to that cannot be described in some way as incomplete and broken.

My body is broken. Well, most certainly my brain is, my broken brain is playing havoc with my immune system and paralyses and weakens various parts of my body whenever it feels like it. The carnage of dodgy hip and ankle and neck is starting to pile up as much as the physiotherapist bills.

Of course, in other respects, my body has always been broken. And in failing to have children, in losing those 6 babies, my life will always feel incomplete. As a woman I will always feel inadequate. The last one still has lingering complications that will require more surgery this year so it won’t even leave me to mourn the emptiness in peace.

My work is always incomplete. Always frustrated. Always an arena for disrespect and humiliation. I don’t know why I bother. I try to re-imagine myself in a different guise, a new form where I might be able to do something constructive and positive, but it always ends in someone tearing me down, destroying my achievements, and trashing my reputation. People I don’t know, have never met, have all kinds of opinions about me based on the BS spun by people determined to destroy me for reasons I have never understood. I have almost never been allowed to just finish the task at hand.

I enjoy studying, but even that is often thwarted, and I have to fight far too hard to just make my way through a degree. I really would love to do my PhD, but I can never see it happening. Nor can I ever see an academic track becoming a reality. Incomplete.

My heart is definitely broken. Everyone and everything I have opened it to, from parents to men to God, have responded with betrayal and abandonment. I had worked for a very long time to keep it shut and cold, cracking last year and opening up again, only to get burned once more. I should have known better.

Probably the most broken is my finances. You’d think my spirit reading this depressing drivel, but I still get up in the morning: my bank balance is unrevivable.

Can I just get up tomorrow, be healthy, and go back to work? That would be great. Yes, I know; that would also be someone else’s life.