The Fight For Life...

Choosing life and fighting to stay with that choice is hard. It's a battle that never seems to find an end.

In the past 2 years I've fought for different things. I've fought to dream, hope, believe, and trust. I've fought to keep going with trying to get pregnant even when there were no positive results. I've fought to stay calm during scary procedures and surgery. And finally I had to choose to fight for me. Fight to stay alive. I've had to put dreams in a cardboard box and place them in the storage room of my mind so that I can fight for life and not death.

I've put a lot of pressure on myself these past two months to heal quickly. I've fought against my grief and pain so that I can "get a grip" and "cope" better. And then I fought to stop numbing out to every single goddamn thing so that I can name truth about how I am really feeling. 

It's just one big fight that never ends. 

And all I can think about is how tired I am. 

How tired I am of fighting....especially when I have to fight for good things. 

N always reminds me how strong I am...that I've been fighting a long time...and I'm still here. 

I've been fighting in my late twenties to stay alive and not self harm. 

I've been fighting since my mid/late twenties to get pregnant. 

I've been fighting since my early twenties to deal my childhood/teenage baggage and fight the glorious fight of just being who I am. 

I was fighting in my late teens to believe that fairy tales did exist even though I was scared, lonely, naive, and just got a guy who wanted to get off and use me. 

I was fighting since my late teens to stay alive and not take the final exit. It had to get better, right? 

I was fighting in my late teens with an eating disorder, self-harming, and extreme self-contempt. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years to know if I was really loved and worth anything. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years with knowing I deserved to be seen and noticed and respected even thought no one else seemed to think that. 

I fought my whole childhood/teenage years to keep from drowning in the noise and chaos of parents who were fighting and screaming constantly. 

I was fighting when I was a little bitty girl to keep from remembering something horrible and traumatic that occurred because everyone trusted this person to be alone with me. 

I was fighting when I was born to stay alive and not die in NICU. 

My whole life has felt like one fight after another. Since the day I came into this world I have been fighting. And more often then not I wonder whether it's worth it to keep fighting. 

My heart is tired and broken, but somehow it's still alive and beating. 

It's strange. 

And I guess astounding.