I’ve got the signature waddle.
The luscious locks and “glow”.
The smiles and wishes of luck from strangers.
The sympathy grimace from knowing mothers whenever I wince in discomfort.
The round, adorable belly full of a growing, healthy fetus that people like to rub.
-don’t know where next month’s rent is coming from.
-struggle with grief and guilt over my previous pregnancy loss from 2 years ago
-found out my mother is dying and nobody will tell me when.
-had a bad PTSD trigger this week.
-cried in public 8 times yesterday.
-broke up with my husband last night.
-self-harmed for the first time in 5 years.
-write this entire entry through watery, red, puffy eyes
I can’t be sure what exactly tipped me over the edge but I’m terrified of life and I feel guilty for wanting to end it. I don’t want to end the life of the fetus, though. I’m just tired and scared of what lies ahead. I feel sick to my stomach at the notion of raising 2 children alone, at having to somehow eventually explain to my 3.5 year old that Daddy, whom he adores and idolizes, can’t live here anymore. I never grew up with a father in my life, so this notion of being put in my own mother’s position scares the living fucking shit out of me. It was so hard for her and obviously it was hard for me and my brother. I’m still recovering from it. I don’t know if I can be a good mom without help.
It’s an easy time of year to isolate myself, too. Friends and family are all scurrying and hurrying to shop, visit family, and partake in festivities, or they’re doing finals at school, or they’re working 2 jobs in retail during the holiday rush when employers frown upon days off. I really only have 3 really close friends, and I’m feeling very distant from 2 of them, because I only see them once every couple of months. It’s just so easy to say “I’m busy” this time of year. People expect and respect that, no questions are ever asked. I can feel my withdrawal from others heightening faster than usual this year. Only 2 adults in my life would quickly know if I were gone and I pushed one of them away indefinitely. I want to add that I don’t feel in danger of my thoughts, and if I do, I will call someone or at least 911. But instead I feel full of swirling pain and anger and guilt and shame and anxiety and baby kicks and at the same time…