WARNING: This might be my first post with cussing. If that offends you, don’t read this post. I’m not apologizing for my vocabulary, we’re all adults, and I can almost guarantee you do less ladylike things than I do.
Okay, so I’m not gonna lie, the third trimester is kicking my ass.
I’ve never been so tired in my entire life. And I don’t just mean oh I want to sleep, I mean TIRED. Of EVERYTHING and EVERYBODY. The smallest things annoy me, everyone annoys me. I’ve been quite isolated.
I keep hearing things along the lines of, “That baby is gonna ______”. Let me just say, once I hear ‘that baby’ I stop fucking listening. Why? Because I didn’t ask for the person’s two cents. Because it’s MY baby. Not ‘that’ baby.
I also keep hearing from people who, honestly, should just keep their damn mouths shut, that I should NEVER be pregnant again, that my body won’t take it.
Shut the fuuuuuck up.
I am now in a position where I have to go into the doctor twice a week for a non-stress test. This week I have 3 doc appointments. While I am fully aware my son is not ready to come out yet and that he will come when he’s good and damn ready, I am tired of being pregnant. Not in the sense of thinking about being induced or scheduling a c-section. Tired in the sense of, I want to sleep on my back/belly. I miss whiskey. I miss working out. Also, I really want to meet the little one who likes to have his feet in my ribs.
But really, I need to go back to work.
I’m sure that once LO is here and I get to hold him, I will feel better. But, I have no income coming in. NONE. Which means that I am confined to my room basically. I hardly go anywhere, and when I do, it’s not somewhere I necessarily want to be. I try to spend time outside so that I can both get my vitamin D, but also so that I don’t shoot myself in the face. It’s been raining though. Thanks, Texas.
Have I mentioned how ridiculously intuitive my child is? He’s kicking me as I type this, like ‘just a little while longer mama’. Yesterday, I had a horrible day. I can’t take my medication anymore, because of this stupid fucking state. And so the need to be outside is increasing, but then again–rain. When you’re stuck with bipolar, borderline personality disorder, anxiety, depression, paranoia, and PTSD, being pregnant without medication is HELL. Literal fucking hell. As if every single emotion I had before wasn’t already magnified, now I have emotions and hormones raging a billion miles an hour.
So back to yesterday. I’m going to be honest again here. I seriously considered finding a sharp object. I wanted to feel something physical instead of emotional for a while. For the record, I didn’t hurt myself. But holy fuck did I want to. I wanted to so bad my skin was itching. It’s like my subconscious sees that my scars are almost completely healed and thinks, ‘cut, cut, cut’. My mind is a dark and lonely place.
The other day, I was telling my husband how when I’m down I think about how when we first met, I didn’t want to be pursued at all. But he did it anyway. I never saw myself as an attractive person. This man thinks I’m beautiful. This man has dealt with my level of craziness for almost 3 years. Why, I don’t know. When you’ve had shitty relationship after shitty relationship, it’s hard to put your walls completely down. It’s hard to rewire your brain to think and know that you ARE wanted.
Long story short, my brain is a jumbled mess of muck right now. I want to hold my baby, I want to rest, I want to get out of this rut I’ve somehow put myself in.
I want to be happy again. I am happy. I want to have the energies around me be happy as well.
Stay tuned for a post about some business updates!