End of Days

I think, therefore I fear. I have an obsession with Armageddon and the end of the world. I have pretty much been interested (i.e. terrified) in since I was about 12 years old and first really comprehended the implications of death and war. I know most of the prophecies, and have researched almost all of them. I am particularly obsessed with 12.21.2012. I have nightmares about it, I will have periods of time where it is all I think about. I will spend hours online searching for more predictions and compiling lists of independent predictions that coincide. I have pored over the book of Revelations so many times that I nearly have it memorized.

On top of that, I have a serious problem with believing in God. My problem is that I want to believe. I want to believe more than anything I could possibly want, but I have such a hard time. I think too much. I can't help but question. I feel like I just don't try hard enough. Like the answer is on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't get it out.

I'm so incredibly terrified of the end of the world. I'm both afraid that there is a god, and all the prophecies will come true and I'll end up going to hell for being a lukewarm believer, or that there isn't a god and the prophecies will come true and I'll suffer only to die a real and final death. Do I fear hell or do I fear a complete cessation of existence more? It's hard to say. I almost fear the end of me more than I fear hell, but of course if there is a hell, not existing would be infinitely better then going to hell if it really is as bad as it is supposed to be.

One thing I do believe, I do believe that the world is going to end in my lifetime.
Maybe its only because I also fear the alternative, dying of old age. I don't know what's worse. I have such a fear of death and the end of the world that I have panic attacks when I think about it too much. It's ridiculous, really, but I can't help it. When I start to think about it I have to force myself to think of someone else so I don't freak out. If I really could believe that there was something beyond death then maybe I'd be ok. But I can't. I want to, and sometimes I do, but I don't believe it all the time.

What's interesting is that while I've always had this fear, it's never been this bad until Chase was born. Before that, it was all abstract. But now, it's constantly just under the surface. I will be playing with him and someone will make some kind of comment about him growing up, which of course naturally leads me to think of my growing older, and my thoughts progress from there. And then I have to sing at the top of my lungs, or read a book, or somehow detach the thought from myself. I just want someone to hold my hand and tell me that there is nothing to fear.

--Dragon Read more!

Your World Is Killing Me

Bored and lonely. The weather today and yesterday has been bad. Really bad, especially yesterday (note: if you live in some part of the world that actually has real storms, you're going to laugh at me. But this is California. We don't have real storms here). The wind blew trees and telephone poles down all over the place, roads were closed, and pretty much the only part of town that still had power was the part I live in. Lucky me. There are still people without electricity.

Thanks to the lovely weather, my boss canceled work yesterday. Making me miss out on 3 or 4 houses (a full day, in other words), so my next check will be for only 2 days, as have been every check for the past 3 or 4 weeks. I've been clearing less than $100 a check, and I'm pretty much screwed.

Next week I have Monday off because I have 3 appointments that I made before I started working at Merry Maids, and we are supposed to be having fewer houses each week now that the holidays are over. This sucks. This really sucks. I love my job. My bosses are fantastic, and so are all the girls I work with. But I need to essentially make double what I'm making now just to break even.

On top of that, I start school on the 22nd and will be going to school from about 8am until 10pm Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then from 11am until 5pm on Saturdays. Which leaves me 3 days to work, as I refuse to work on Sundays. I have worked 2 jobs before without any days off, and it was sheer hell. There is no way for me to make it if I don't have one day off a week. I will self-destruct, as I did before. So I can either get a second job working Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in the evenings, or I can find another job that somehow magically pays more and lets me work those days during the day.

Now, while it would suck, I could do it-- if I didn't have Chase. How can I work two jobs, go to school full time, and still take care of Chase? He'll never get to see me. I'll be gone from 8am until 11 or 12pm every day except Saturday and Sunday. That's got to be detrimental to the kid's mental health, right? What should I do? I am swiftly running out of time to figure out how to make it all work. Fuck. Yep. Bad words, even.

--Dragon Read more!

Beginnings

September has always been a month of beginnings for me. Perhaps it is because I spent so much of my life in school. Not only that, but September is when the summer begins to fade and the light shifts from the hazy gold of August to the crisp blue of October. The time changes, the nights grow longer, and the wind begins to blow. I've never had the feeling in January that I do in September, the feeling of wanting to start again and make myself anew.

This September, especially, I want to be renewed. I feel as if I have been on hold for the past year, doing, being nothing. Last fall and winter I was far too messed up to even want to think of changing. I only wanted things to be the way they had been before. I spent most of my time locked in my room wishing I had the courage to slit my wrists. I stopped going to work, and spent the majority of my waking moments trying to lose myself in a game or sitting on the floor of the shower so no one could hear me cry. The rest of the time I tried to sleep, laying on my bed dreaming the surreal dreams of one half-awake.

After a few months of this, reality hit me and I had to pay rent and a slew of other bills I had accumulated. I got a job but lost it within a few weeks because I hated going to work in the morning. I got another one and the same thing happened. Since I was fired, however, I was able to apply for unemployment. I started looking for a new job but it was pretty half-assed. By this time I had gotten my license, so I was free to go wherever I wanted. Instead of locking myself in my room I tried to outrun what I was feeling. I would speed down the highway blasting music as loud as I dared as if it would drown out the demons.

The other benefit of finally having a license was that I started to get out and be sociable. I figured that perhaps I would forget to be miserable if I was around other people. I began going to Open Mic at a local coffee shop, which is where I saw Erik again. We had worked together before when I was the assistant manager at Taco Bell. I knew he had a crush on me then, but I was never interested. He was nice, but not at all "my type". This time was different, however. I thought that perhaps my problem was in going after guys of a certain type, and if I found someone completely opposite of that, I would avoid most of the problems that came with it, so we began talking on the phone and spending time together, and I started to feel a lot better.

Shortly thereafter I started dating, and I felt like a regular person again instead of the mess I had become. I started school and was doing quite well. Shortly after that, I got pregnant. I was so upset. I never wanted to get pregnant, and while I liked Erik, I didn't necessarily want to go passing on his genes to future generations. Call me a snob if you will, but I just didn't think he was necessarily a prime candidate for furthering the species.

Again I fell into that dark spiral. I tried to be happy about it, but all I could see was how this was going to completely screw up my life. I left school because I had started working again, and on top of that had to drive Erik everywhere because his car was broken. It was all too much. I don't see myself as a very strong person, contrary to what many of my friends and family believe, and I didn't think I was capable of taking care of someone else and having a job or going to
school.

At this point, Erik and I decided to get married. I don't know why I said yes. I never really felt like Erik was "forever" material. There were certain things about him that I knew I would not be able to live with for an extended period of time. Perhaps I just didn't want to be alone. The world was looking so big and I felt so incredibly small.

So we began planning a wedding. And more and more I felt like I was trapping myself. Living with Erik, I didn't feel like it was me standing together against the world. It felt as if I was all alone and he just happened to be there. I had to protect him and do all the thinking and planning and making sure everything got taken care of. This was not how I wanted to live my life.

Finally, after months of this, I decided enough was enough and I told him that I was tired of being the only adult, of making all the decisions and taking care of everything. I told him to either step up or get out. He didn't believe me. Of course, I was serious and I ended up asking him to leave.

Then my mom moved in and things got a little better. Still, it feels like one thing after another is going wrong. And I just need something to go right for once.

I started this year in a black hell that I managed to escape, if only part of the way. Things started to get a lot better and then I slid back. I couldn't take the responsibility of taking care of myself and taking care of Erik. Finally someone realized I was serious and said, "Gee, I think you're bipolar. Let me see if I can help you with that." Even though I had been looking for help for months, this only came after Erik called the cops on me because I was sitting in my car having a panic attack and threatening to kill him or myself. Gotta love the system.

(On a side note, one mental health worker told me that no psychiatrist would touch me because I was pregnant and there were no medications you could safely take while pregnant. She even suggested that if it was really that bad that I should just have myself committed until the baby was born. She tried to make me feel guilty for seeking help while pregnant and as if I had no right to life or sanity now that I was an incubator for another human being. If I ever see that woman on the street, I will beat her to a bloody pulp. She has no right to work in mental health and ought to be strung up by her heels and let bleed to death slowly. But I digress.)

Every time that I felt as if things were going ok, I felt prohibited from doing anything that would make me feel remotely useful, because I would just have to stop when the baby was born. I was too tired and overwhelmed to even try.

But now, September is here again and I no longer have to worry about giving something up or having to quit because I'll have to take care of the baby. Now, he's here and I can try and have a life. I plan on starting school in January to get an AA in Computer Information Systems, and I have a combination of 8 weeks maternity leave and 12 weeks CFRA (California Family Rights Act) Leave, so I won't have to go back to work before then. Which on the one hand is a good thing, but on the other, I don't know how I'm going to last almost 4 months without working. My mom and I are going to make a bunch of mei tai carriers and swaddle blankets (yep, I can sew. Pretty damn well, too.) and sell them at local street fairs and the farmer's market, etc., so at least I will be doing something productive.

Hopefully things will be different now. The September breeze brings change, I can only hope it brings it for me.

--Dragon Read more!

Zero Hour

So this is it. The zero hour. I have to be there tomorrow at 5:45am... in other words, too frickin' early. I'll be in the hospital for 4 days. After tomorrow I'll no longer be just me. I'll suddenly be me + 1... what a strange thought. How do people deal with the sudden transition between only having themselves to take care of, themselves to think of, to having a whole other person who depends entirely on you for everything? I wonder what the person I will become would have to say to the person I am now. I hope that I like the new me.

--Dragon Read more!

If It's Not One Thing...

Let me first say that I feel so much better. Thank you so much to everyone who commented regarding my fear of labor. Of the few people I've told so far about it, some have been very supportive while others have made it seem as if I was being selfish and unreasonable, and I was just very afraid that more people would feel that way. I have a tendency to be a shameless people pleaser, sometimes to the extreme. You have helped me see that it's ok, whether they think so or not, because what matters is what I am comfortable with. Again, thank you. :)

That said, right now Erik is driving me nuts. Remember how about 3 months ago, in June, I kicked him out mainly because he refused to step up to the plate and get a decent job? Well guess what: still no good job.

I have done everything in my power to help him find a job. I have done far more than I should have to, more than anyone else in their right mind would do, I'm sure. I created a resume', found ads for jobs that sounded suitable, I signed him up for a class to learn how to write his own resume' and another class to help him work on his interview skills. I even told him what to wear to an interview. It turns out I'm not the only one-- his aunt and sister bought him a bunch of new clothes that were more professional than his old clothes, everyone in his family, even his sister's boyfriend keep an eye out for jobs he might like and let him know about them.

Regardless of all the help he's getting, he still won't do anything. I've told him in every way I know of that he needs to get a new job, that not only are his expenses going to go up once the baby is born, but he can't even keep up with his current bills. He goes from agreeing with me to giving me all kinds of rediculous reasons as to why he can't search for jobs now. For example, his band is playing in an upcoming festival about 2 weeks from now. Now, I'm pretty good at getting a job easily, but even for me 2 weeks is pretty fast. Not to mention if you let them know that you have prior engagements, most employers understand.

I'm not the only one who is getting fed up with him. Everyone in his family has been after him and feel as if he should be taking responsibility. We are all so frustrated with him. Babies cost money. Now, I have plenty of help if I need it. I have my mom, Sara, my dad, everyone in Erik's family including his mom and stepdad, both his aunts, his uncle, his grandma, and his sister and her boyfriend. So if I ever really need something, there is no shortage of people who will gladly help me out. However, it's still Erik's responsibility.

I'm hoping that he will surprise us all when faced with reality in all its screaming, pooping, chubby-cheeked glory, and do his share. But to be quite honest, I really don't believe he will. And it frustrates and angers me to no end. I don't want to be a bitch. I don't want to have to tell him that either he gets a job and starts helping out financially or I'll have to go to Child Support Services and let them go after him. Because they will attach his wages and he'll have no choice but to get a better job, as he'll have barely anything left. They don't care whether he can pay his bills or not. I'm not that cruel. But if he doesn't hurry up and be a man, then I'll have no choice.

I'm so sick of being put in positions like this. I'd much, much rather be nice. If people would only listen to me, everything would work out so much better. It's not like I say these things because I like the sound of my own voice (and really, I don't. It's too high pitched.). I just don't feel like I have any other choice.

--Dragon Read more!

Weak and Powerless

I haven't written much lately because I've been afraid to write about the one thing predominantly on my mind.

I am a control freak. I admit this. Perhaps because there has been so much in my life outside of my realm of control, I have become someone who craves order and organization. I need things to be logical and timely. I need to be able plan and anticipate. I hate surprises (except complete surprises, those are nice. But when I know it's coming, it drives me nuts) and I loathe being caught off guard. Because of this, I'm terrified of labor. I can't think of an adjective that seems to really convey just how scared I am.

There is very little I can plan or even really expect regarding labor. No two people experience the same thing. I could be in labor for 6 hours. I could be there for 36. And there's no way to tell. I could tear or have an episiotomy. Then again, I might not. There is so many variables, and no real way to predict them. This frightens me to death.



Throughout my pregnancy, my midwives and anyone else I talked to about it kept assuring me that I would be ready for it when the time came, that I was not physically ready for it, and so I wasn't emotionally or mentally ready for it. I wanted to believe them. I tried to ignore the fear for a while, to no avail. Then I thought perhaps if I knew more about it, I would feel more prepared. Not so-- it only made it worse, because everything I read made it more and more clear that there was no way for me to know what would happen.

As such, I have not been a nice person lately. I've been anxious and stressed out and worried beyond belief. This has led me to be a total bitch to pretty much everyone around me. I was so afraid that I couldn't seem to think of anything else, and the fact that everyone seemed oblivious to the kind of torment I was feeling. I kept fighting with my brother (but really, he is a great big effing asshole anyway), fighting with Erik, even fighting with my mom. My mom got so angry at me that she said some incredibly horrible things that she had no right to say, but it convinced me to stop dwelling on it and do something about it.

So finally I discussed it with one of the midwives. I made a list of everything I was afraid of, and believe me, it was not a short list. But the main thing came down to the fact that I feared the loss of control. We talked about the kind of options I had, and I told her I wanted a c-section.

I told her that I had been researching it for weeks, and I felt confident that I understood the risks. I also know what to expect. I know what happens when, I know about how long it will last, and I know what to expect while recovering. I understand that it will take longer to recover from, but in the long run I feel like it is worth it.

I was afraid she would tell me that I couldn't do it, that since there was no medical reason for it. She talked to me about the risks and the fact that she wasn't even sure if one of the OB/GYN's they work under would even consider it, but she said she would talk to the doctor and see if he would even consider it. We talked to the doctor and he agreed to do it.

I was so incredibly relieved. I know it's major abdominal surgery, and considering that I have never been in the hospital and the only surgery I've ever had was to remove my wisdom teeth, it's a rather scary thought. But I am so much less worried and afraid about it than I was about the thought of going through labor. Now, the only thing I have to worry about is not going into labor before I'm scheduled for the c-section on the 7th. That likely won't happen, but it's still a possibility.

I know some people may think that I am being selfish for wanting to do this, and that i just need to suck it up and deal with it, but it's my choice. I don't care if you think I'm a terrible person because I feel the need to control everything and the desire to avoid injury to my private parts. It's my decision and I have to live with it. If I'm comfortable with it, then that's all that matters.

--Dragon Read more!

So Tired

I feel like I've forgotten where I've been. It's not as if anything of note has happened to me the last few weeks, but it seems as if I'm walking through a cloud. Perhaps it's because of the utter exhaustion I can't seem to shake. I feel like I'm constantly going and going all day long every single day. Even on days I purposely try to do nothing, I still end up feeling drained. Is this because of being pregnant? Perhaps a pre-baby exercise in exhaustion so I know what to expect? Maybe it's because I can't seem to get a good night's sleep. I wake up about every 2 hours to go pee (effing bladder... I can't wait until all my internal organs are back in their proper places), and I can't get comfortable. My lovely soft bed feels like a rock. I fear my medication isn't working because lately I've been getting so overwhelmed by things. But I haven't felt a panic attack coming on or the heavy depression either. So maybe it's just me. I don't know. I can't wait for it to be over, but at the same time I'm absolutely dreading it. I don't know what I'll do. I really don't think I'll make a very good parent. I'm a terribly modest person and I can't stand the idea of people poking around down there or poking and prodding at me like some kind of farm animal. Especially since Erik and Sara will be in the room with me. And the worst part is the not knowing. I'm such a control freak. I like everything to be planned out and to have all the details in order before I do something. You can't exactly do that when having a baby. You just kind of deal with it. I don't think I'm dealing with it very well. I keep thinking about it and for all the planning and lists and organizing I do, I still can't control the situation. It's so hard. Especially because I'm afraid that he'll be born early. I had a dream he was born August 15th. The thought scares me to death. I keep thinking "but I don't have a carseat! But I don't have a carseat!" I know. Silly thing to think about, especially since i live 2 blocks from the hospital. If all else fails, we can walk. It hasn't even happened yet and the whole thing makes me tired.

--dragon Read more!

Seeing Red

A few days ago I bled. Me + pregnant + bleeding= bad. It was 3 am and I woke up feeling like I had wet my pants. I would have been a happy to find I had, knowing what it could have been. But it was red. RED! Bright-fresh-copper-scented blood. (yeah, too much detail, I know) My first thought was Oh, Shit. My second thought was how incrediby bright it was. When I cut myself, or pick at a scab, it's not nearly that red. Much darker, and in far smaller quantities. It only lasted about 20-30 minutes, but it seemed like a whole hell of a lot more blood than one would expect, and far more than my midwife seemed to think. Granted, she didn't see it, but still. I was most likely overreacting, but thus far I have had no complications at all, everything has been smooth sailing and the only real drawback was the 12 weeks of daily vomiting. I was totally unprepared for it.

Needless to say, I was scared.

I had visions of a 10-week premature baby, no pre-delivery time off work to prepare for the baby, and (odd how this seemed important) missing Ozzfest. I kept thinking that I had nothing for him other than the small basket of baby clothes my stepdad bought for me. I spent 3 hours online looking up possible causes (placenta previa being the most likely) and what kind of survival rate a 29 week old baby faces. What kind of problems the wee one might face. I don't think I am adequately conveying how incredibly frightened I was. I'm still worried about it. Yesterday at work I kept thinking, What if it happens again? What if it happens while I'm at work? Boy, that would be awkward. Although knowing my manager, she would probably drive me to the emergency room herself.

I was so scared.

I'm still scared.

--dragon Read more!

Little Things

I got a pair of shoes today-- brown and light aqua blue skate shoes on sale at Payless for only $7!!! Two of my favorite things, new shoes (am I the only person who absolutely loves the smell of new shoes?) and great prices! yay!

I convinced Erik to look for another job. I had to indirectly threaten to kick him out to get him to do it, but he is finally looking for one. I really hope he keeps it up until someone actually hires him. The other day we went to McDonald's and I asked for an application for him, and he flat out refused to apply at fast food. That really pissed me off. I work at Taco Bell, and I am far more qualified than he is. I can be a receptionist, secretary, direct care staff, management, retail, cashier/ teller, and probably more than that. He has very few skills, namely direct care and cashier, and it really irritates me that he thinks he can be choosy. I asked him if he thought he was better than me, and he said no, he was just better than them. So I told him he was not better than anyone, and he'd better get off his high horse, because right now I could care less whether he likes his job. Right now anything that offers a steady paycheck is the goal. Hopefully he can find a job other than fast food, but if no one hires him, he better suck it up and take whatever he can get. I know that's gonna be a fight if it comes down to it, but I pray it doesn't come to that. I may even have to get a second job, and that is incredibly hard for me, considering that I get so tired working a full shift right now. If I had to work more than 8 hours, I don't know if I could pull it off. I hope things get better. I can't stand the constant fear of "one more thing".

--dragon Read more!

Scrying

When I think of the baby, I don't think of a tiny helpless infant. I think of a little boy with sandy hair and green eyes, maybe 2 or 3 years old. I've tried to imagine him as a baby, a new and wriggly little bundle to cuddle with and sing to when I'm kept up at crazy hours, but for some reason I just can't picture it. Instead I see myself chasing (no pun intended :P) him across the lawn, or him reaching up to me with hands covered in mashed potatoes and a sloppy grin. Perhaps it's easier for me to imagine a personality for a toddler than it is for a baby, but I've met plenty of babies, and even when they are very small they have some hints of their future personalities. Or perhaps it's more of a fear that I won't be able to hash it out as the parent of a newborn and the image of a walking, talking terror is my imagination showing me my percieved reward if I can only make it through the first 2 years. I'm not really sure.

Sometimes I think I must be crazy. I have a really hard time with long term commitments. I can do anything for 6 weeks at a time. After 6 weeks, I can usually convince myself to do it for another 6 weeks. But to push those 6 week blocks on for at least 18 years? Am I nuts? Everytime I have something good going for me, I self destruct. Am I going to be any different as a parent? Or am I going to throw my hands up in despair and walk away forever? Right now I don't feel any sense of attachment to the wee one. I read and hear other people saying how they loved their babies from the moment they knew they were pregnant, or how they talked and sang to their bellies for the whole 9 months. I know right around this time (26 weeks) babies can hear what's going on around them, but what do I talk about? What am I supposed to say? I feel as if I'm supposed to just know these things, but I don't. I keep hoping that as I get farther along these feelings will come naturally. I have a very hard time becoming emotionally attached to people. I try to remain very logical in my relationships with people, because I feel irrational and out of control when I become too emotionally involved with people. But with my very own child? Isn't just kind of wierd?

--Dragon Read more!

Something Wrong?

I'm not one of those people that enjoys being pregnant, or basks in the "glow" of pregnancy. Personally I feel like this is just something to get through with as little discomfort as possible and make to the other side unscathed. Obviously, I won't be completely unharmed, as pregnancy is, in itself, a rather messy and painful business, even if you're lucky enough to experience relatively few discomforts until the end. I know people that actually loved being pregnant. Maybe I'm just weird, but to me that is totally unfathomable. It's like saying, "I love having a broken bone" or "I love suffering from the flu"... and yes, I know that pregnancy is not an illness, but it is a debilitating condition nonetheless. There are many things you might do normally that you can't, if you are a sane, caring parent-to-be, that you would never dream of doing while pregnant. In addition to the restrictions you place on yourself, your body poses a few of its own: for example, now that I'm pregnant, I've found that I am completely incapable of working a job that requires a lot of physical energy or standing all day, something I've never had a problem with in the past. Not to mention the fact that for some asinine reason, I now have to take naps in the late afternoon. I can't just not take the nap, I have to do it. If I try and stay up, I'll end up falling asleep. Due to all of these things, and the fact that I find it terribly unnatural to grow a stomach the size of a watermelon or have another person living inside of you for the better part of a year, I really don't enjoy pregnancy. I know, of course, that it's rediculous for me to see these things as "unnatural", as they really are the most natural thing in the world, but that's how I feel. I also don't feel really connected with or bonded with the baby. Perhaps it's because I'm not really showing yet, but I don't really talk to him or rub my tummy the way most pregnant women do. I've always been kind of annoyed at how pregnant women are constantly rubbing or touching their tummies in public. I know that some of this has to do with my depression and issues with being close to people, but I'm afraid that it will continue after he is born. I know some women don't instantly bond with their babies and it takes them a while to really form an attachment, but what if that happens to me? Or worse, what if I never form an attachment with him? I don't want to be a bad mommy, but what if I don't like him? I feel like a horrible person even saying these things, but I really do wonder, what if I just don't get attached to him?

--Dragon Read more!