August 3, 2010

• I haven't been writing.

   

  And it isn't that I haven't been writing because I'm busy.

  Or that I haven't been writing cuz things are good and for some reason its so much harder to write about the good things.

   

  I haven't been writing. I haven't been sleeping. Ive barely been eating. The midwife is going to yell at me. Shes gonna be right. I'm not doing a very good job right now.

  Sometimes that thought spurs me into action to try to take better care of my unborn child. Sometimes the guilt drives me further into madness.

   

   

  I wonder how much of this is hormones and how much of it is my life spinning out of control?

   

  Is there no safe place?

  I want to tell you, to justify my sudden self-destructive tendencies, just how drastically the world has come crashing down around me. But I hold still that whining about ones life on here serves no purpose. And I need to find a purpose... find some purpose that this disaster has had in my life, some purpose to get me thru the night. 

  How am I supposed to trust anyone? The universe keeps ripping the people that I trust away from me. And yet I need people. I need my family, my home, some stability. I have never been so vulnerable, never needed so much. Sure I have been thru hell and back, I have been so emotionally vulnerable and taken advantage of. I have even been hurt, physically destroyed, left for dead. But its different when you hold only your own life in your hands. Im comfortable with taking my life in my hands. I have always some how managed to pull myself back together. But its not just me. Everytime I cry I am reminded that the very emotion in my body is harmful to my child. Before if I couldn't sleep, if I couldn't eat, if I couldn't breath, well it'll pass no lasting harm done. What lasting harm might I do with one little panic attack? I can't fight, I can't defend myself and in the nightmares that fact haunts me. I never knew how much comfort I took in my fighting prowess until I found myself forbidden, and far too constantly exhausted to defend myself. And the midsts of all this, in the midsts of all this, the universe yanks my foothold away. And I wonder if Im just cursed and I wonder if Im a fool and I wonder if its just a wonderful little joke to see how much I can take. And I hope that the rational part of me (a part that's strength waxes and wanes throughout the day without rhyme or reason) that says that the universe is making me stronger, that I chose this life, a hard life, for a reason, that I have a purpose, a destiny that once I finally manage to get my stability permanently I will be able to fulfill and I will be happy; I want that part of me to be right. The universe is just trying to teach me that there is nothing that can be taken from me that will destroy me. I love therefore I am. And I do love, the universe did not rip that away with my husband. My ex-husband I should say. I do love him despite what he did to me. The universe cant take that from me. What a strange thing to take comfort in. 

  • 3:14 am
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