saturday night fever


We went to a movie then for shitty pizza. It wasn’t as much the pizza as it was the atmosphere. We were seated next to the restrooms in a table among other tables that seemed to have been set up at the last minute because they ran out of room. The place was absolutely freezing cold as well. Fuckers.

It was good that we were close to the bathroom because when I suddenly broke into tears, I didn’t have far to run. I am with a great man, but, at the moment, I’m convinced he’s the enemy. I’m now spending the rest of the evening concocting a plan to somehow get back to California for an extended visit.

I have animals (a horse and a dog) and their care is top priority for me. I don’t understand why I’m not experiencing any connection whatsoever to this growing child in my body. I’ve been looking for something to blame for my unfortunate mood lately, I’m blaming the hype and the media. All this talk about postpartum depression, mothers not bonding with their babies, horrid labor and deliveries, 1 in 84 baby boys having autism, etc. It’s too much for a girl like me who freaks out on a regular basis. Of course, somewhere deep down, I’m grateful for the information that is available. Though disturbing, Brooke Shield’s admission that she envisioned her baby sliding down a wall after she’d been thrown against it, is, I don’t know, interesting? But the truth remains that I’m so afraid of myself and this child that I’m practically paralyzed. It doesn’t help that I am so far from family and friends. The isolation is life threatening, I swear.

I had a very glamorous lifestyle before all of this but I’ll get into that later. I will say that I was lonely then and I longed for a baby. It’s possible that I may be losing my mind.



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