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Four days later. I'm making my way, getting by, recovering. Coping.
Sure, I've had all the emotions. I've run through all the thoughts, all the ups and downs, the what ifs and possibilities, the fantasies, the annoyance, and the healing process. I've pictured what my child could have looked like. I've imagined myself in my impoverished circumstance trying feebly to provide for a child. And then considering that there would be another income to help pay for child care, the idea of raising my rejection baby with someone who had already "made it clear" that this was an arrangement solely based on the welfare of our progeny...the thought of that humiliation and endless sense of hurt and rejection, with the added responsibility and the sacrifice of my dreams...
Not worth it. I'm still glad I did it.
Noah came by this weekend for a few hours, to take me to dinner and presumably to spend time with me while I recovered. He said he'd "be in touch very soon," and I truly hope he does not try to connect with me again. I hope he stays away. Spending any kind of time with him makes my heart literally yearn for him, all I feel with my entire being is how much I love that man, and it aches so deeply that he does not share that sense of affection for me, regardless of what his true feelings are. I can't keep recovering after seeing him. He just represents hurt. He just keeps pulling me down, keeping me from healing.
I don't need that.
I'm also tired of changing these super-absorbent maxi pads. They are fart-trappers. They are bulky and uncomfortable. I realize it's a minor issue and I'm willing to deal with it, but I wonder if Noah realizes I'm still dealing with this whole experience while he is officially off the hook. I want him to leave me alone, even though I know he is a good man who is simply trying to do what seems like the right thing. I can't ask him to be willing to confront himself and find his freedom to be vulnerable and see that I would be a perfect partner for him. I would never ask someone to discover how to love me. But dear lord it hurts to love someone so deeply who is behind a wall.
Whatever. Some serious changes in my world view have taken place, I feel far less consumed by despair, and I can finally EAT FOOD without gagging!!!
My quality of life has improved dramatically in those two ways.
1.07.2015
1.02.2015
A New Start
In seven hours or so, I'll finally be heading in for the procedure to terminate this pregnancy. I have waited for nearly six weeks to take care of this unfortunate circumstance, which is ridiculous considering the amount of trauma and strife and weight gain and hormonal spiking going on during that time. But state regulations insist that an ultrasound be done at 5 weeks, and then the clinic can only perform procedures on Fridays, and it also just happens to be the holiday season, so... here we are at almost 9 weeks when I discovered my pregnancy three weeks in.
I've experienced so many degrees of low these past six weeks. Loss of self-respect. Despair. Anger. Bitterness. Mild hopefulness. Blame. Guilt and shame. A deep sense of failure. Isolation.
I'm also unhappy to report that I've just tossed my careful, disciplined diet and motivated workout regimen out the window, and it has rapidly resulted in unattractive weight gain. It won't stay this way, and I know it, but in the meantime I need to wear clothing and nothing fits. Improving this specific issue won't be as rapid the problem progressed, of course, but I expect that being on my feet and on the go more often will be more energy-demanding than sitting on my couch all day every day.
The friends I've communicated most closely with during this time have reminded me that this isn't the end of the world, that I'm not a worthless failure for making a choice to preserve my stability in a scenario with no perfect options, and that stewing in my bitterness over being used by Noah and self-contempt for allowing it for so long is simply a massive waste of my energy. Nothing can be done to undo those moments. And furthermore, there is no perfect behavior Noah can assume to atone for or repair anything. He's making himself available to remedy the situation in the manner I have chosen, he's agreeing to pay for it, and he's trying his best to be supportive when I'm sure he really has no idea what to do about it.
I have every right not to welcome him back into my life, or to entertain even casual, polite contact. He has no place in my life because his assertion that we could definitely be friends, and that he never wants to do anything to hurt me, have always been trumped by his selfish (and drunken) desires to get laid. And who better to exploit than someone who's willing to drive over in the middle of the night, cheerfully?
Even if I didn't give my power to him, if I wasn't boiling with fury that this "break up" from early July has come to this point six months later, I am still deeply resentful that his cavalier attitude and my feelings have managed to introduce a tiny gamete into my body that has changed my internal chemistry so dramatically. I've had all-day nausea and sick feelings almost every day of the past four weeks. My boobs are too big for my bras and they hurt and I bump them into everything. I have a fucking 9 week old fetus that has ribs and fingertips and that does NOT make me feel guilty about aborting its future. What kind of life could I possibly provide this child? I'm already morbidly depressed, broke, and single. Should I add the stigma of a single mother on welfare to my already near-suicidal state of mind?
I'm sorry to admit, if abortion wasn't an available option, there's always suicide. Because I feel as if I've lost every inch of progress I've made since 2008. The sense that there's nothing to live for is basically all I experience day in and day out. The grim notion that if I simply willed my future into a positive one, that I would undoubtedly be a force to reckon with, is already so defeating. If I could align myself with a positive perspective, if all it took was trying, I think it would be possible. But last time I dug myself out the suicidal mentality, I had a fantastic therapist to guide me, and this past time I had a mediocre one with an intimidating receptionist. Last time I had very little money to spend on sessions, and dove in the deep end to tackle my issues, and had tremendous epiphanies that parted the clouds in the skies and I saw light and happiness for the first time in years.
And in this past year, I saw the skies close over once more, and no daylight has reached me for so long and the hope of finding myself living my dreams with a light heart seems so lost.
My dear friends who have been so supportive don't realize that this is one of the many details weighing on my depression. So it's not just as easy as meditating more often, or working out at least a couple times a week. I need to catch a break with my career goals, because it has been an incredibly unyielding battle since 2008. I am meant for grad school, I am my very best doing field and lab research, and I would be fulfilling my life's purpose in conservation work. That's literally who I am, not a teacher, not a customer service rep, not a server or writer or insurance broker or anything else. I am a scientist, more specifically a field ecologist, and the world doesn't make sense unless I am living my passion. When I was a little girl, being outside was the only thing that made sense. Working with animals, behaviors, interactions, that makes life matter to me. It makes it profound, spiritual, connected.
And for seven years, I had hoped I wasn't taking too broad a side-step into the world of teaching (science) to make it possible to qualify for a decent grad program working in a lab where I would flourish. I just need that break, finally. It's the only thing that feels right, that feels worth it at all.
That's why I'm doing this tomorrow, so I can actually, legitimately try to live my own dreams. It's the only thing I want from 2015, to get into a graduate program for conservation or ecological restoration or something near there, and I'm literally open to anywhere that could be a good match. I know that future is out there and I'm ready to make it happen; to not let anything stop me.
My resolution is to stay resolved, and not resigned.
I've experienced so many degrees of low these past six weeks. Loss of self-respect. Despair. Anger. Bitterness. Mild hopefulness. Blame. Guilt and shame. A deep sense of failure. Isolation.
I'm also unhappy to report that I've just tossed my careful, disciplined diet and motivated workout regimen out the window, and it has rapidly resulted in unattractive weight gain. It won't stay this way, and I know it, but in the meantime I need to wear clothing and nothing fits. Improving this specific issue won't be as rapid the problem progressed, of course, but I expect that being on my feet and on the go more often will be more energy-demanding than sitting on my couch all day every day.
The friends I've communicated most closely with during this time have reminded me that this isn't the end of the world, that I'm not a worthless failure for making a choice to preserve my stability in a scenario with no perfect options, and that stewing in my bitterness over being used by Noah and self-contempt for allowing it for so long is simply a massive waste of my energy. Nothing can be done to undo those moments. And furthermore, there is no perfect behavior Noah can assume to atone for or repair anything. He's making himself available to remedy the situation in the manner I have chosen, he's agreeing to pay for it, and he's trying his best to be supportive when I'm sure he really has no idea what to do about it.
I have every right not to welcome him back into my life, or to entertain even casual, polite contact. He has no place in my life because his assertion that we could definitely be friends, and that he never wants to do anything to hurt me, have always been trumped by his selfish (and drunken) desires to get laid. And who better to exploit than someone who's willing to drive over in the middle of the night, cheerfully?
Even if I didn't give my power to him, if I wasn't boiling with fury that this "break up" from early July has come to this point six months later, I am still deeply resentful that his cavalier attitude and my feelings have managed to introduce a tiny gamete into my body that has changed my internal chemistry so dramatically. I've had all-day nausea and sick feelings almost every day of the past four weeks. My boobs are too big for my bras and they hurt and I bump them into everything. I have a fucking 9 week old fetus that has ribs and fingertips and that does NOT make me feel guilty about aborting its future. What kind of life could I possibly provide this child? I'm already morbidly depressed, broke, and single. Should I add the stigma of a single mother on welfare to my already near-suicidal state of mind?
I'm sorry to admit, if abortion wasn't an available option, there's always suicide. Because I feel as if I've lost every inch of progress I've made since 2008. The sense that there's nothing to live for is basically all I experience day in and day out. The grim notion that if I simply willed my future into a positive one, that I would undoubtedly be a force to reckon with, is already so defeating. If I could align myself with a positive perspective, if all it took was trying, I think it would be possible. But last time I dug myself out the suicidal mentality, I had a fantastic therapist to guide me, and this past time I had a mediocre one with an intimidating receptionist. Last time I had very little money to spend on sessions, and dove in the deep end to tackle my issues, and had tremendous epiphanies that parted the clouds in the skies and I saw light and happiness for the first time in years.
And in this past year, I saw the skies close over once more, and no daylight has reached me for so long and the hope of finding myself living my dreams with a light heart seems so lost.
My dear friends who have been so supportive don't realize that this is one of the many details weighing on my depression. So it's not just as easy as meditating more often, or working out at least a couple times a week. I need to catch a break with my career goals, because it has been an incredibly unyielding battle since 2008. I am meant for grad school, I am my very best doing field and lab research, and I would be fulfilling my life's purpose in conservation work. That's literally who I am, not a teacher, not a customer service rep, not a server or writer or insurance broker or anything else. I am a scientist, more specifically a field ecologist, and the world doesn't make sense unless I am living my passion. When I was a little girl, being outside was the only thing that made sense. Working with animals, behaviors, interactions, that makes life matter to me. It makes it profound, spiritual, connected.
And for seven years, I had hoped I wasn't taking too broad a side-step into the world of teaching (science) to make it possible to qualify for a decent grad program working in a lab where I would flourish. I just need that break, finally. It's the only thing that feels right, that feels worth it at all.
That's why I'm doing this tomorrow, so I can actually, legitimately try to live my own dreams. It's the only thing I want from 2015, to get into a graduate program for conservation or ecological restoration or something near there, and I'm literally open to anywhere that could be a good match. I know that future is out there and I'm ready to make it happen; to not let anything stop me.
My resolution is to stay resolved, and not resigned.
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