Lullaby

Change is never welcome. People always talk about wanting to change things, or how others should change. Sometimes people actually initiate their change, but then it isn't believed because it is the other person who cannot accept the change. I like things to stay the same. Change scares me to death, and I don't like it. However, sometimes certain people make you want to actually change. Sometimes life comes to a head, and change is all you have left to do. Change is hard, and change is scary. Change is also necessary for evolution and growth.
Today at work, I kept to myself per usual. After all of the customers were gone, we began cleaning, folding, hanging, and organizing. I worked alone, then was joined by a girl, then a guy. The girl was quiet, I'm not sure of what her name was. The guy's name was Kelvin. He asked me a bit about myself like where I went to school and what job I had prior to Old Navy. We laughed and had fun while cleaning up clearance (not an easy or enjoyable task). We were then joined by the other employees to finish up quicker. Everyone was laughing and sharing stories. I kept to myself because the larger crowd sort of freaked me out, but I paid close attention to each conversation going on. Kelvin is looking for a job somewhere else, Mary decreased her hours, we had a couple new associates start today, one of the managers is leaving, and other small gossip. I was (and still am) exhausted. Emotionally and mentally, I'm a wreck. I don't know what tomorrow brings, but hopefully it brings something positive. Maybe I'll go to church like I planned, or maybe I'll sleep and dream of better times. I've been thinking about it, and I really think I want to switch my major. I know I'm a junior now, and it's kind of late, but it could still happen. I want to switch from psychology to nursing. JP said I'd be a good nurse, and I can see it too. The future is what we make it, I just have to keep that in mind.

The Pit

Any famous writer (or even a decent English professor) will tell you to write while you feel the emotion. I'm feeling an immense feeling of sadness. I get this weird feeling when I get very sad and upset. It's like a chill in my thighs, and a deep pain my heart. The chill comes in waves, maybe every 15-20secs. It feels like a cool cloth is being held against my skin for a little while, then taken away. It keeps repeating until I calm down and it slowly fades away. I feel a big pit in my stomach too. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I won't let them out. My throat is kind of tight, like I want to break down and just scream. But instead, I yawn to disguise my worsening face. I can almost feel my face sinking, and the bags forming under my eyes. When I'm upset and/or stressed, I do this crazy thing where I don't eat. I went from 131lbs in the beginning of March to today being 120lbs. The constant ups and downs of my heart are fucking me. My mind is a mess, my body is disappearing, and my soul feels so empty. I hate everything I've become. I feel as if there's no point to fighting much longer. I don't want to fight to survive, I want to fight to live.

ER

Depression is such a strange monster. One minute you'll be fine, and the world is amazing. The next minute, you want to kill yourself. Every psychology book or website on the planet says to identify the source of the depression and eliminate it. Once you find your triggers, you can try to avoid them. However, with my case, I feel like I don't have any specific triggers. I feel like my only real trigger is stress, but that's much too broad to eliminate. I can't stop school, work, relationships, and family life. That would leave me with nothing but the internet and eating as my activities. Honestly, it doesn't sound like a bad plan. All I really want from life is happiness. I want the man I love to be around me all the time, 24/7. I want to be in his arms, and laughing by his side for the rest of my life. When I have too much time on my hands, I start to think. When I think, I freak myself out. It's aggravating. Essentially, I set off my own stress, thus leading to depression. The busier I am, the less I think.
Today, my mom went to the ER. She was in an incredible amount of pain. She had been bd for a couple days, but today was the worst by far. Even having a single ice cube sent her into pain and vomiting. My dad drove home from work just to take her to the hospital. While waiting, I had to watch her throw up and mumble and be vulnerable like a child. She could barely talk to me and communicate. She was discharged about 8hrs later with a diagnosis of a severe kidney infection. She's on 4 different medications now, and still isn't doing completely better. She's going to be out of work until next week to give herself time to recuperate. While doing tests and scans, they found her gallbladder to be rather enlarged. The doctors were really concerned about this since her father died from pancreatic-liver cancer. They told her to do a followup with a gastroenterologist to check it out more and see if there's anything major going on (meaning cancer). Stress never seems to stop in my life. As long as the stress keeps persisting, the depression will as well. Lord help me.

A Rose Amongst Daisies

It lasted a little over 10 months. My roller coaster ride with JP seems to have come to end. There was too much fighting for him to handle. We were both suffering. I feel numb without him by my side. I can't call or text; he'll be changing his number soon, and will probably block me in the meantime. This is my fault. Everything that goes bad in my life is my fault. It's almost like I purposefully fuck things up. JP and I were talking a few weeks ago and we got onto the topic of if/when I'll find the right person for me to spend my life with. I told him I knew who it was, and that I had met that person a while ago. As I said to JP, that man is a rose amongst daisies. He stands out from the crowd and is more beautiful than I've ever seen a human being before. He's passionate, kind, loving, so dedicated, and will fight to the death for those he loves. He makes me smile on days I think it's impossible, and he evokes laughter just by saying little comments and being himself.
Laying in bed, I constantly check my phone. Maybe he'll send me one last text. Maybe he called me. Maybe he just wanted to say how much he loved me for the last time. I lay in the same bed we made love in only Thursday morning, and I'm sobbing. My pillow is damp with tears, and I mumble words of encouragement to myself. I began crying on the phone with him after he explained yet again why we needed to separate. As I cried, he said "You're stronger than this". I kept saying it over and over to myself, hoping for everything to be ok again. I don't have a lot in this life. I have a select few friends who I've been drifting apart from, I have a broken family that seems beyond repair, I have a failing semester, and I have my cat. As I lay here in bed on the verge of yet another breakdown, I have to get up for work. I have to put on nice clothes, do my makeup, brush my hair, and slap a smile on my face. I have to greet customers, fold tables of clothes over and over again, and feel dead inside while putting on a character for the world. I didn't have to be perfect for JP. I just had to give him one thing, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it in time to save us. I destroyed whatever path we may have had together. I plan on changing my number, so once I do so, he won't be able to contact me. Once he changes his number, I won't be able to contact him. We're at a dead end it seems. I won't lie down and take this. I love him too much to just watch him walk away. It's beyond painful for me, and I hope at least a little painful for him. We both need space to fix our separate problems, but I want to see what everything is like when the shit is gone. I'm changing in big ways. I'm finally becoming what he needs, and what he wants. Who I was when I was a child is what he needs in his life, not what I have become over the years of depression and secrets. He is my rose, and I want to keep him in my garden, safe and sound forever until I die.

Chains

My inner demons have been feeding on my soul. I can feel myself deteriorating and shrinking away into nothingness. I have urges to jump out in front of trains, take pills, or simply cut myself till I bleed to death. My depression is magnifying and it's getting out of control. I can stop myself from doing anything too harmful, but I'm afraid I won't be able to do that much longer. I feel weak and mentally exhausted. I forgot whether I put this in my prior post, but I have a new job. Everyone there is so sweet and eager to help if I need anything. I've spoken to a couple of the (small) male population of the store. They seem nice, and one of them seemed to be flirting with me a little bit. I'm in no place in my life to begin again with a relationship. My insides feel twisted and my throat is dry, and my overall mindset is very negative.
I got out of class early today, so I found a place to sit outside by the Hudson River with a sweet view of the city. I watched the clouds breeze by, felt the sun on my face, and listened to the Les Mis soundtrack. It's depressing, but calming in a weird way. I'm seriously looking at maybe checking myself in somewhere. I've done a lot of independent research and have self-diagnosed myself as severe Borderline Personality Disorder. I fit every element to a tea (I believe that's the expression). The only things making me second guess this decision are my job (I just started, so taking a sabbatical this early is not good) and disqualification from any military or PD jobs in the future. I don't know what I'm going to do. I tried a couple different people today trying to get info but none were too helpful. My best bet is to call directly to the hospital I'm interested in and get info there. It's amazing how much they make people go through just to get the help they need. Slowly but surely I'm taking the correct steps to be the person I once was so long ago.

April 7th, 2015

Yesterday was the day. I think my mom was more nervous than I was. We arrived a little early, and filled out paperwork. After a few minutes, I was taken to the back and had a sonogram done to see exactly how far I was and what my options were. They laid me down on a table, and put cold jelly on my stomach. After some poking around with the wand, the doctor determined I was 9 weeks and 1-2 days along. That's a lot less than I anticipated. He asked if I had questions, and then the nurses told me to use the bathroom before we got started. I prayed again in the bathroom and asked God to take this child and make them understand how much it was loved. I put my hand on my stomach and said I love you. Then I was escorted into a room and given a gown. I put it on, and was then seated in a horizontal chair-like thing. We sat there for a while, and my mom was growing more nervous by the second. I was enjoying every last moment I had. The doctor came in and everything began. They gave me gas to knock me out a bit, but I was still aware. Then it felt like every tool on the planet was being put into my vagina. It was uncomfortable, but not painful. The actual procedure itself lasted 20 seconds, and the doctor even counted with me. One nurse held the gas to my face, and the other one was holding my hand. It was more painful than I thought it would be. They sat me up in the chair and gave me tea and Tylenol after the procedure. I was out of it from the gas, and ended up throwing up a couple times. I was in recovery for about 20mins before I got dressed and ready to go. My mom had to help dress me; I couldn't even put my own bra on. I made a return appointment for next week to make sure everything went well and my body is handling it ok. I was slow and nauseous all the way home, but I made it. I put on a diaper because of the amount of bleeding. I had some food and kept it down, then rested. Sleeping last night wasn't easy, and so I decided to stay home from school today. I got a note from the doctor saying that time off is fine, so I'll be excused. I've heard of people who have done this and deeply regret it. I don't think I'm one of those people. I regret having to do it, but not doing it itself. I know it was the best choice. But it felt different and lonely waking up knowing my little thing wasn't with me. Even so, I know that my baby will always be with me and in my heart until we're reunited one day. I was completely fine until I went to write this post, now I'm getting emotional and kind of depressed. I knew this would happen. I just hoped that I would have support from the man I love.

My Little Thing

The last week hasn't been easy. I told my mom about being pregnant, and she was obviously upset. However, she was much more upset that I didn't tell her sooner. I had been walking around with this knowledge for about 3 weeks before I told her. She said it must have been so hard for me to carry around. She's right, it was and still is. But she explained a lot of things to me. Our insurance doesn't cover any kind of prenatal care for me. And the expenses that would come with a baby are much to great for us to easily handle. We still have doctor bills to pay from my dad's cancer a few months ago. The type of cancer he has is so aggressive that it always comes back within 2yrs after treatment. We don't know when or where it'll come back, but when it does, it will require a lot of money and energy on our end. It's likely to come back with a vengeance. She gave me straight facts and shot down my dream of raising this baby. Ultimately, the decision is mine, and I know that. It took me a couple days to think and get my head on straight, but I came to a conclusion. We simply can't handle a baby right now, no matter how we may try to pull it off. Every child deserves to be given the best life possible, and I can't provide that at 19. I can't even sustain myself, let alone someone else. I've always been pro-choice, but I never thought I'd be in the position to choose. Life is funny that way I guess. This wasn't an easy decision, and I hate having to do it. I prayed and spoke to the baby. There's this really nice open letter online that went viral a few months ago from a mother to her aborted baby. She explains that she's still dealing with her own issues, and that bringing another life into that situation isn't a positive thing for anyone. I completely agree. I believe it's called Little Thing if anyone is interested. I read it when it first became popular and I thought it was sweet. But now it truely makes sense to me. Unless you're in the position I'm in, you can't grasp the feelings or emotions that are going through my mind and heart. I'm going Tuesday morning at 10am to have it done. I'm scared and sad and hurting, but I know it's for the best. I feel so alone. I still have the baby in my stomach, and I sure as hell know it's there. I'm still peeing constantly and the morning sickness hasn't really gone away. While I may be feeling a flood of emotions, I also feel a sense of peace. I know this child won't be brought into my crazy world. I know I'm not ready for it. If I had the means to leave school and be able to support this baby, I would do it a million times over. But it doesn't matter what I want. What matters is what the baby needs.
I love my little thing, and I always will. I'll never forget the short but meaningful journey we took together. You taught me a lot, and you gave me patience. I appreciate you and your little life more than you can imagine. I know I'll meet you someday in heaven when I get old and finish my time on earth. I don't want you to think that I don't love you, or that you were a burden. You are and will always be a blessing to me. Conceiving you wasn't a mistake in the slightest, it was simply the timing. When Tuesday comes and I say goodbye, it won't be forever. It'll just be till I see you again. Just as I won't forget you, I hope you won't forget me. I'm your mother, as will I always be.