Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Tucked in

I get bigger by the day. I’m sick as a fucking dog. My sleep schedule is a nightmare. I throw up randomly and mostly stomach acid. I have vivid dreams. My house is a wreck. I’m not doing the best at work, by any means - barely making it though the day and still falling behind even when I’m basically caught up.

My anxiety is so high. I feel like I’m about to cry every single moment.

But then my husband tucks me into bed. He puts his hand on my growing stomach. And the baby moves around inside me. He feels it the same moment I do, and I feel for a split second like this might work out. It might be worth it. The feeling is fleeting and doesn’t last long, and I still want to cry, but I wish so deeply and strongly that this will all work out ok in the end.

I’m so fucking scared. What if I can’t manage all this? What if I can’t DO it? What if I’m a failure at this? What if I’m not strong enough?

I feel like I’m already failing and I’m not even there yet. I dread each day when I open my eyes. Each work week is just me dragging myself through to Saturday so that I can sleep and try to get some of my life back in order. I’m so behind in so many areas. There are so many things I need to DO.

But all my energy goes to mental anguish.

Fml, help me, universe. Help me, God, to manage. I want to do more than just survive right now.

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Missing all this

When I am done with pregnancy:
Hot baths.
Diet Coke.
Iced tea.
Energy drinks.
So. Much. Caffeine.
My Tylenol, Benadryl, and Prilosec habit shall return.

One last time after pregnancy before I starve myself thin af:
Blue cheese.
Cesar salad.
Eggs Benedict.

When I am done breast feeding:

Monday, April 23, 2018

Baby blues

I’ve gained ten pounds since I got pregnant. I’m actually right on track with how much weight you’re supposed to gain for a healthy pregnancy, but it’s freaking me the fuck out.

I can’t imagine when I see that 35 week weight... I should gain another 15-20lbs during my pregnancy, but that thought is horrifying. I try to think about it as the baby weight and blood weight and placenta and all the things I know it is and that I need inside my body to have a healthy baby, but I can’t help but feel like it’s just ME getting FAT.

I’ve thrown up every meal today. And not on purpose. I dry-heaved when I woke up, ate breakfast and threw it up, ate lunch and threw it up, ate a snack and then dinner a bit later and threw it up. My years of bulemia have made be adept at determining what I’m actually throwing up, and the after dinner one was definitely snack and all. Every meal gives me terrible stomach acid, doesn’t digest properly, and gets thrown up. My GERD is terribly bad right now, and I can’t take a goddam thing to make it better.

Plus the migraines. They say you can have a little caffeine or a little Tylenol or aspirin, so I’ve been taking half doses of headache medicine when they’re completely debilitating and I HAVE to function, but it makes me nervous. I worry when I take things. I don’t want to hurt this thing I’m responsible for.

My doctors appointment is tomorrow. I’ll see how the baby is growing and developing. I hope it’s all ok.

Sunday, April 22, 2018


I’m at the point in my pregnancy where I feel the baby move sometimes. It’s strange and terrifying to think I have to be responsible for the life of someone else when I can barely manage my own.

I’m starting a new resolution to stay off my phone more. I spend way too much time looking at pointless things and not enough time broadening my mind. Not enough time painting either. I can’t even focus on a movie without looking at my phone screen sometimes. It’s madness.

I’m tired and listless today. I’m behind on work paperwork. I don’t seem to care.

My stomach is a complete disaster due to pregnancy. I throw up constantly, and I’ve been getting migraines. It’s debilitating and stops me from doing all the things I need to.

I have anxiety. I can’t focus. I want to sleep all day but I want to do things also.

This shut sucks.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

The universe ordered pain

The world was so full of hurt today.

Physical and medical and emotional... Hurt from the past and from the present and potential hurt from the future. Hurt about abuse and body image and failed relationships and addiction and hopelessness.

Today was one of the first days that my job drained me rather than gave me life.

I came home wanting to see my silver lining. And then he came home hurt.

I have wanted to cry  a few times today, but stopped myself. Now I want it to flow from me, but after such a draining day, I can’t seem to get it to. I had to stop the tears for the sake of others every other time today. Now I want them and can’t have them.

My life is sacrifice. Understanding. Seeing the darkest parts of things. And then when there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I am supposed to look away. I am forced to pick out the tiniest detail and demonstrate it to those who don’t have the vision to see it. I’m holding up microscopic particles, saying “see here!?” and they respond, “no, my eyesight isn’t that good.”

Today was a rough day. I want the world to be a better place.

And I want to cry.

Monday, April 16, 2018

Existential angst

I feel listless. Tired every moment. Like nothing makes me happy. My anxiety and depression are devastating. I can barely drag myself to and from work. I’m not doing all the things I need to, and I know it. I’m falling behind while trying desperately to get ahead. It’s like running a race, knowing I won’t win, but just hoping to finish.

I’ve never been good with less than first. And that is not where I am right now. Some days I feel as if I’m not even in the race.

I drive to work late and think about the past. All the people. All the midnight adventures. All the things I used to be. Am I happier now? Some days. But am I ready for the next phase of my life? Probably not. I think about how I can’t wait to get back to my vices once the baby is born and then how unhealthy that thought is. But I feel insane without them. I want them back. I wish it were possible to have a reckless and crazy life with all the comforts of a family, and how sad that it’s not. I made decisions to make me happier, and they have, but what if the happy I imagine just isn’t for me? What if I am never content and always feel this existential angst?

I look up therapists, but I never call. I can’t imagine what I would say. I can’t imagine what they would think. Therapists don’t judge, but they do.

I hear the dreaded B Word in our meeting. Is that what’s happening to me? Yes, I’m frustrated. But, I’m still doing this ok, right? I spend the hour complaining. I make valid points. I see it in her eyes that she agrees - that my words have been her thoughts. It all seems like a problem too large that I don’t want to take on forever, a problem that I don’t even want to take on now. I wonder if I should look for a new job, or if the problem is me. I wonder if anything different would actually make me happy.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel on the verge of crying every moment, but the tears never seem to fall from my eyes, even when given an opportunity. I feel... nothing. Most of the time. And then overwhelmed the rest.

I wonder if it’s pregnancy and hormones or just a migraine or true disappointment in my life. I wonder if I’ll ever know that answer. I decide only time will tell. That I will be able to fix this once I have more energy and once I have things falling into place more. I pray that that day comes. Right now it feels like I’ll never feel ok again, and I spend every day just hoping I will and fearing I won’t. I make the commitment to hold out longer. To finish what I started. But I can see what’s ahead, and I have a hunch it’s going to frustrate me immensely.

I hope I can handle all of this.

I miss thinking thin.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Depressed day

My life.

Holy shit it has changed.

The fiancĂ© and I got married. He’s my husband, and I love it. Our relationship is better than I could ever have imagined it would be. It’s actually healthy now, which is shocking to think. We don’t drink anymore. I missed it at first. A lot. Still do some days or moments. It was nearly impossible, but somehow I managed to get through it, and life is better with him being sober. So much better; I can’t express it.

I got pregnant. 6 weeks after getting married. It’s a boy. Due in September. I’ve been so sick I can barely function, and it’s taking a toll on me mentally, but I have to just power through it. I try not to think about my scale and tight clothes and swelling body as I grow this thing inside me. It’s horrifying. But I made the decision not to let it get me down for 9 months, and then once I’m not responsible for growing this human being, I’m going to starve and work out and get myself back down to a comfortable level. I know it’s possible. I’ve done crazier before. It horrifies me, but so far I’ve managed.

Being pregnant fucking sucks. Today I was so sick I had to call out of work. It’s happened a few times. I’m frustrated every single day by how my body won’t cooperate with what I want. I have to eat like every two hours or I get ill. I hate eating. I hate it more than anything. And now I don’t have a choice. I just try not to think about it too much. I’m frustrated by a lot right now. And it’s a huge life adjustment that a huge part of me is very unhappy about...

I’m scared to be a mom. Horrified. This makes me less desirable. This makes me an adult. This makes me responsible. This means my old life is truly over. No more drugs and boys and partying. No more of my bad coping. I have to be healthy now, and some days I’m really not. Some days I want to run away and change my whole life. Living with my husband in this shit town in this shit house... I never imagined I would be here like this. I’m making a lot of sacrifices to try to eventually get the life we want with our degrees and house and babies living on the beach. I tell myself it’s all temporary. One day I will barely remember this time period in my life. I know that, but it is hard right now to keep myself happy daily. Some days I’m depressed. Like today. I could probably have handled work, but I also couldn’t. I couldn’t force myself to manage nausea and physical strain to listen to other people’s issues all day. To try to fix things for them.

But what kind of helper has depression and anxiety?

My job is good for the most part. I hope. I like it there for now, and I like what I do, but some days I lack confidence. Most days. I just can’t imagine I help people as much as I wish I did. And sometimes I don’t know how to actually help. Trying is hard. Feeling like I’m fucking up every day is hard. I feel like I look for reassurance daily. And I always get it, but I don’t know still...

I’m also horrified about after my pregnancy. How the fuck do I take care of a baby?? I know I’m not ready. And I’m so scared I’ll become this other awful person and lose my husband. He is the only thing I have in life that I care about right now. And being pregnant and sick every moment has already taken a small toll on us. Being at my parents house those months took a toll on us. I don’t know how we survived and stayed happy, but somehow we did. I’m so terrified he’ll leave me one day. I don’t know what I’d do. He’s the only man I’ve ever truly loved who loves me. And I will die if he ever stops.

I’m scared. Like life scared, not even right now scared. And I don’t want to lose anything I’ve worked so hard for. I try to think about things positively, but some days I can’t.

I guess today is one of those days.