I realised today that there’s an awful lot of shit going on with me, which I appear to kinda of shove uner that fabled carpet and try not to upset anyone with it. Unfortunately, as of late, I’m realising that shit just really doesn’t work.

Most of what’s happening, I should have known was going to happen, or I should have learnt to deal with it by now. Deal with it and move on.

But I swear to the gods I am on the verge of losing my marbles.

None of this will make much sense, I guess, but hear me out. A bit.

I know, (hope and desperately pray) that most of what’s whizzing around in my head is as a direct result of the pregnancy. Those joyful hormones that have plagued us women for faaaaaaarrrrr to fricking long. I’m tired of being “On the Edge” all the time, I’m tired of crying over things that normally wouldn’t phase me, I’m tired of being told I’m doing a great job and then have random people offer their opinion on what I should really be doing. Hell, I’m just tired of being god damned tired.

Yes I am WELL aware that pregnancy is exhausting, especially with a child who is 10 months going on 16 yrs. But what makes me sad here, is that much as I adore Noah to bits, and think that he is quite possibly the coolest kid ever to exist in the history of children, I’m starting to resent him a little.

It breaks my heart to type these words, and I’d want him (and anyone else) to know that he means more to me than anything else in the Whole. Entire. World.

But lately…I dunno. Lately I feel like I have to force myself to really connect with him, or to have time for him. And it’s not even his fault. He’s just 10 months old. He deserves a mum who not only gives a genuine shit about him, but surely should be able to do it without sometimes feeling it’s the greatest upheaval ever.

I hate myself for thinking things like this, and I know it’s only a temporary thing, but why should I even be thinking or feeling them in the first place? I can’t stand it.

I’ve felt so disappointed in myself lately. I mentally bitch about everyone else all the time, how I feel like I have to do everything or give instructions to everyone else, and how it feels like it’s always me who has to run the show and make sure that everything runs smoothly, because no one else seems to do it. And if things don’t run smoothly, then it is my fault and no one else seems willing to take the blame anyway.

And then I have to take a back step and make a huuuuge effort to remind myself about all the things that everyone else has done for me/us/him. Sad to say, sometimes it doesn’t feel like that much. I guess I often feel let down, and even though I’ve been living with that for years (spontaneous support from my own immediate family rarely occurs) you’d think I’d be used to it by now; but some part of me always stupidly (and naively) seems to hold out hope. I guess that just makes me even more sad.

There are too many things going on right now that I think test to some extreme limits every single day. Which is a bitch, because it’s getting to the point where I contemplate leaving. Me and Noah, packing our stuff, and moving somewhere so far away, not even D or my own family (should they choose to make an effort) would find me.

I know running away isn’t the answer, and I couldn’t even do it anyway, for sooo many reasons I couldn’t even begin to list them here. Right now I don’t know what the answer is. I go to counselling every so often to deal with all the work crap going on in my head (and oh my god THERE’S a whole chapter in it’s own right) and I’m now finding her useless. Especially when she calls me Joy. I’m starting to wonder if maybe she’s playing some kind of psychological mind game with me…

So that’s failing me. I don’t have any “just around the corner” friends who I feel close enough to, who would listen to me vent, nod in all the right places and tell me whatever it is I need to hear, without adding a nice dollop of assvice. I realised that no one actually knows enough about me personally to listen and help me in the way that’s best for me. Or, maybe they do, but can’t be arsed to listen to my shit. D does his best to listen when I finally let off steam, but usually, 10 minutes after it all, it’s like I never even opened my mouth, and I’m often back to square one, with an extra side order of sheer frustration.

I’m amazed at how angry, frustrated and annoyed I feel with everyone and everything, including myself. I try to tell myself every day that whatever decision I make for Noah is the right decision, but of course I know I make mistakes. Who the hell doesn’t? But sometimes it’s so hard to hear someone else’s opinion and how it’s made to sound like you’re the Worst Mother Ever (I once joked with a friend about how we should put together a website called badmommies .com, only to discover that it had a very questionable porn affiliation attached to the very idea. Soooooo baaaaaad.)*

I’m tired of…hmmm…I think I’m tired of busting my ass, getting minimal thanks, next to no recognition for it and not really getting the relief when I truly need it. I’d like to think that I don’t ask for help that often (it’s a rarity, to be honest), so perhaps it would be a bit easier to help because hopefully I’m not so demanding…I don’t frigging know. I warned this wouldn’t make much sense. Hell, I’ve managed to confuse myself now, so lord only knows where I’m going.

One thing I will say which terrifies me to the very pit of my growing stomach, is that I cannot possibly see how I am going to cope with two. I have no idea how I am going to run the show, when it often feels like I have to run other lives without time for my own.

There are so many things I want to quit, in the hope of giving me a fighting chance, to spend the time with my family and give them the time they deserve. But I know I can’t quit them yet; the guilt would just consume me to all new realms, it’s not the right time, I’d regret it, gahhhh tha list goes on.

I have a rehearsal later, and as I can’t remember the last time I had a shower (seriously, no lie), I may just take this opportunity to pretend to do that mad thing where you hope you can wash all your troubles away.

Or maybe, I’ll just take a shower and hope to smell nice, even though I couldn’t tell because it’s now been near on four days since my sense of taste and smell have been dulled by this mother puppy cold.

If you made it this far, then thanks.

* You’ll note I made sure this WASN’T a hyperlink…didn’t fancy the idea of linking to very dodgy (I assume) porn, thanks.