the worst thing about being having severe depression, an eating disorder and various personality disorders is that no matter how much you think you can do it, going off the meds, cold turkey, will lead to emotional (and physical) breakdown. your symptoms will reappear, worse than they’ve been in eons, if not ever, and anything you think or say or do, you will end up regretting.
i feel sorry for myself, and honestly, i’m in “i hate this, i need my meds and i can’t do this pregnancy-thing” mode today. i thought of abortion. me. i’m prochoice, normally, for anyone in the world (with an acceptable maximum for those of us “ladies” who seem to use it as birth control with some regularity), but i normally choose No, for me. today, i thought of tossing myself down stairs, going scarlett o’hara, or just plain jumping off of something high enough to do more than make a dent.
I thought that if I went out, and painted a happy, pristine face, i would feel better. you know, smile and soon you’ll find that you don’t have to try anymore? all it got me was tired, angry, psychotic and sick. since i’ve been home, i’ve gotten out of bed for a total of 20 minutes, since 4 pm today. i just was…done.
being home alone, on bedrest is the loneliest thing – everyones at work, or lives in vancouver, where i should live, or is just plain not available for my beck and call. probably cuz they’ve learned better, over the years.
and my sad sad sad sob sorry is not worse or more deserved of compassion than anyone else. because, once again: i’ve done this to myself. i knew to wean off the meds, and chose to be stoic. i knew to not get out of bed, yet wanted subway. i knew that getting pregnant would fuck me up, but i took it like the slut i can be, 2 days after he drunkenly accused me of cheating on him. why? so that he would love me, again. i am the reason “trailor trash” exists as a phrase, i just moved into a 4-plex, instead.
i feel like a selfish degenerate who is going to make the worst mother in the world. and this is only week 6 – i still have 34+ more to go. (on a selfish positive note, i feel like a fat cow, but have actually lost 3 lbs. in the last week, from only being able to keep down jello and occassionally Mr. Noodles. everything else, just comes right back, 2 seconds after i get some satisfaction from eating. I know it’s not good and i can’t afford to lose anything, baby or not – but there’s no way to dull that electric shock of losing weight without trying, once again – this is normally how a relapse starts, accidentally losing and then making a game of it.)
