So far, this pregnancy is wasted on me. Nothing but overwhelming worry, panic, and depression. Badly. I could write about how terrified I've been lately ... the blackness has gotten a hold of me and dragged me down. Or, when Mr TC talks about the "baby", I think geez, you're hopeful. How disgusted I am at my own pessimistic and bleak outlook. How irrational my fears have become, overblown like the freakin' Goodyear blimp. I started getting paranoid that something would happen to Tiger, or Mr TC would die, bloody everything.
I've spent the past two days frozen, crying uncontrollably. I'm annoyed at myself - I know it's normal to worry in the first trimester, but fuck this shit so badly. I'm officially over it, and will now do anything I can to get myself out of this hole. I heard that song the other day, with the lyrics:
"But the only soldier now is me, I'm fighting things I cannot see. I think it's called my destiny that I am changing ..."
I have SO been fighting things I cannot see. My biggest, worst enemy on this earth is my own head. I may have got the monkey off my back, but the circus is still in town, people!! I subscribe to an online Alcoholics Anonymous newsletter, and this week it said "Worrying is praying for things that you don't want to happen."
That's it. I'm done. I'm going to a meeting tonight, and will be sharing honestly about where I have been at lately. I have organised to have dinner with my two sisters Tee and Rex down in Sydney this Friday. I will be the designated driver, we shall eat dinner and play pool and behave badly. I can't wait. I'm going to start exercising again - I stopped after embryo transfer, too scared something would happen. But I can do it gently - even if it's just swimming. I will pitch articles, to all the editors in all the land, and they shall know my name is Topcat and that I am not afraid!!! I'm so sick of being afraid. It's like a trick - there's nothing to fear but fear itself. I have been feeling fear by the truckload up here. In hab, I learnt that fear was False Events Appearing Real. Or Fuck Everything And Run. The opposite to fear is faith.
I prayed some big prayers yesterday - to God and to my nan. I don't know who or what God is - I was brought up Catholic, so I still call him God. (And him, apparently!) .... After many years of everything, God and I have come to a certain understanding. Sometimes, I have given him the finger and told him he's a prick. But, usually, we get on pretty well. I will know all the answers when I die - until then, I just trust that there is a force up there that looks after all of us, if only we let it.
Last night, I dreamt I was at my nans house. I had made such, such a mess. Donuts, Camembert cheese - it was dreadful. But I was cleaning it up, slowly. And feeling so much better. I woke up so renewed - I love how sleep can help. I used to have the most dark, violent, despicable dreams. Towards the end of my using, I dreamt I was a rotting carcass tied to the bottom of a car, getting dragged along the road. Nice. My favourite dreams are when I'm flying - I'm so free.
So, in conclusion, henceforth, I am conducting a Shock and Awe campaign on my fear. I will start to enjoy this pregnancy, dammit. Just a little bit would be nice.