I know that title is an oxymoron…but I wouldn’t be me if it didn’t make sense to my life. I couldn’t sleep after I got up at 4 am this morning to make a bathroom run. It would seem I had too much on my mind. I have the craziest dreams since being pregnant. And the very idea of being pregnant seems so surreal; like I’m still not sure if it’s safe for me to believe it. 3 ultrasounds and the sound of my baby’s heart just has not seemed enough to quell this insatiable fear I now have of losing it. It’s unhealthy, I know it is. First thing I plan to discuss with my therapist this week since I will be having my first therapy appointment since my arrival in GA.
It feels like the days just melt together into one big mess that it’s hard to decipher how long I’ve been here though I’m pretty certain it’s almost 2 months. I’m glad to be in my big beautiful home with my bright smiling children but the discord I feel from the energy of my family is enough to make me wanna run away again. I look at my family and I think how fucked up everyone is…myself included. But despite how fucked up we all are I certainly feel a disconnect there. I can’t relate. I can’t relate to certain behaviors and lines of thinking so I feel like I’m on an island unto myself. I’m sure much of that has to do with the absence of my husband right now. I never realized how much balance he brings me until it’s not within my reach. I must do better to show him how much I appreciate him. Depression has a way of making a person feel ungrateful as shit.
Being here simply reminds me why I ran away to Philadelphia all those years ago. I felt trapped by the limitations of familial issues. I’m hoping in time that some of this changes but I feel like I want to keep my distance for my own sanity; it’s hard to hold onto that as it is without outside influence.
I’m eagerly looking forward to Monday’s prenatal visit and Wednesday’s therapy appointment. Perhaps those 2 things will bring me comfort and the arrival of my other half on Sunday can be the final peace.