Personal Private Nonsense Journal

Theres a point when something horrible happens in my life, that I believe and feel deep down like I cant handle anything else or additional happening. I think this is a normal feeling or at least a feeling I have during small crisis and large, it doesnt really matter the severity of the horrible event but it leaves me with this feeling that I absolutely cannot face anything additional. Maybe its some chemical released in my brain just telling my body to ignore any additional stress. Probably not haha. And realistically I always have to deal with problems after a horrible event. I remember when my mom died and I thought I really couldnt deal with any additional bullshit and then finding out that her body had been sent to the wrong mourge.. I really didnt think I could deal with that but it got dealt with. So I always go on, handle the stuff I can handle on top of whatever horrible thing has happened. I’ve never followed through on this thought or feeling that I cannot or will not handle any additional issues. But man do I feel it right now. And now more than ever its serving some deep selfish motives. I cannot deal with Tom issues right now, thats the main thing I feel like staving off. I just want to move forward and not have any additional conflict.. but thats not possible of course. Writing it all out isnt making me feel better but I do feel like maybe I’m behaving a bit insane (regardless of how understandable it is that I behave insanely at this time). 

I felt mostly ok today, despite having to take allergy medicine that made me very sleepy. I felt some undercurrent or just base level of optimism or peace.. but then a conversation with Tom led me to feeling like NOPE I cannot handle anything. I want to eat trash, and shut off my phone, cancel all my plans, definitely put off all step work and skip the meeting tonight. I wonder what hurting myself would feel like (the second time this week I’ve spent any real amount of time thinking about it). It should be noted that I felt really quite depressed and horrible Monday.. just devastated and overwhelmed. And im pretty angry that all of the feelings come from not wanting anything else to deal with. I mean I wasnt even feeling all of the depression and saddness and overwhelmedness over the baby, no I was feeling it about Tom and about how I have nothing going on but yet I cant handle the thought of doing anything else or fighting anything else. I dont even want to read this paragraph again to myself because I’m not willing to delete it and rewrite it but I dont think it is really clear or helpful in describing how I felt or feel. The real important meat of it... I felt an unwillingness to go on, to fight, I felt suicide wouldnt be so bad, and that harming myself would feel incredibly relieving. I havent physically harmed myself with a blade in 5 years. It did happen once in recovery and it hasn’t happened again. I have felt it this week.. the severe need to feel in control, feel something that consumes my mind and evaporates the other free floating pain. 

Thats the overall fallout of losing a baby. I didnt realize how much I had allowed myself to find purpose in the promise of motherhood. So now sometimes I stumble upon feelings of loss through this new purposelessness. I was attached to the small plans and the big plans of having a baby, even more plans when we found out it was a baby girl. Plans of education, of diapers and clothes, of bassinets and swings, I even knew I preferred sleeved onesies over tank top styles for babies. I looked at car seats and made an amazon baby wishlist for things I had carefully selected as best for our baby. All of this is unspent energy now. I would say it wasted time but the baby did live inside me for awhile and that time wasnt wasted. 

I dont enjoy spending long amounts of time with anyone right now. I dont want to have to pretend I’m ok every morning just so that I dont have to have awkward crying sessions in the kitchen when we all go to get coffee. 

My thoughts on starting school and taking a grand trip to the other side of the globe wax and wane. I am excited at times to have the last year of my 20′s ahead of me with money and companionship and ample freedom, but I wished many times for other outcomes. We never ever anticipate what actually happens in reality. At least I am no good at it. I thought maybe Tom and I would have a baby and try to make things work between us. I also thought maybe I would have a baby and be an independent mom if we couldnt eventually find tru enjoyment in each other and we would make coparenting work. I tried harder than I ever have to not be negative and anticipate this scenario where I dont have a baby anymore. 

I dont like having people visit for more than 5 days

I dont like cleaning up lots and lots of cat vomit

I dont like that my post delivery period wont end

I dont like that I cant exercise

I dont like that I cant do squats or lift or eat a regular amount of food because my tdee is super low since I only lay around or walk a bit. 

I dont like that I feel guilty for eating pizza

I dont like that i cant handle ANY ADDITIONAL HARD OR EMOTIONAL EXPERIENCES AT ALL

I would say the first days after a catastrophic event like losing a loved one are the hardest. As far as actual survival that might be tru, but I’m not sure. The weeks after, the time I find myself in now, are also so painful and shocking. I wonder what the actual hardest time is for survival. I wonder what the riskiest time is for relapse, or self harm, when am I most likely to make horrible decisions that I wont be able to live with later. Not that I feel so so so horrible today. It was a hard day, I did at one point find myself near tears in public. 

I guess I am writing this for myself, but also hopefully for my therapist to read. It is on the to-do list of my recovery planning board to schedule therapy ASAP. 

Yesterday really changed the future for me, the news I received from my doctor opened up quite a bit of possibility and gave me some relief and optimism maybe even. 

I cant write this chronologically and stream of consciousness style very well at the same time but I’ll try.. For some dates and event information on the recent past I will be discussing.. June 24 at midnight-ish, I was rushed to the Clinca in Jaco at 23 weeks and a few days pregnant as I had started bleeding vaginally out of nowhere and was essentially having contractions without knowing it. The saddest sentence to write that always makes me cry (only a little this morning) is that: We lost the baby the next day. I had some severe blood related complications and was rushed to the hospital in Puntarenas almost as soon as I got to the Clinca in Jaco. Once I was in Puntarenas, I am not so sure what time lapsed but within a day they told us the placenta detached, the baby had lost her heartbeat and I was having a blood transfusion followed by an emergency c-section. I was separated from Tom after the emergency surgery and spent nearly 24 hours isolated in the ICU during which I was given more blood and plasma transfusion to combat what is called Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation that I had developed after the baby passed before I had the C-section. I spent 2 nights in the ICU, unpleasantly lonely and restricted to a bed in a room with another ICU patient who was unresponsive, it was prison like at times, where I was told what to do, couldnt leave the room or my bed, and could not make any decisions for myself while doctors and nurses kept medication pumping into me and gave me 2 hour stints to sleep. I was bathed, one day and able to bath myself the second day. I was given doses of high potency pain medication for I believe a day and a half from surgery until the doctor decided I would be able to be moved out of ICU and needed to be cut off, and I have not had anything stronger than anti-inflammatory since then. I just want to note this for the sake of my recovery and my honesty, if pain medication had been prescribed upon leaving the hospital I may have continued to take it under doctors orders, as my incision still causes me pain and the stitches have yet to come out. Conclusively I was in the hospital from Monday-Friday that week until eventually my husband convinced the overlord Labor and Delivery doctor that I could recover better at home. The final three days I had been moved to the maternity ward to recover from the c-section. This was me in a room with 4 other women, usually in labor, or who had recently delivered both alive and sometimes less fortunate women like myself who had been high risk and lost their babies. There was a bit of trauma in being so public with my hospital stay, not once having a private room or moment outside of a bathroom, but overall it was acceptable given the actual decent treatment and impressive life saving skill of the doctors. 

Writing all of that out felt hard at first (it’s easier to verbally explain), I know its not a great time line or easy to read but I’m glad I got it out. I know I want to get back to writing about how I’m feeling and discussing it with friends and family is certainly something I know I need to do. Unfortunately at this time I seem to be restricting myself to discussing the facts with minor commentary on how I interacted with various medical staff. I mean, it seems to be easier for me to talk about facts rather than feelings. Of course I feel sad, of course I feel an intense identity crisis and feel desperate to grasp onto a plan for the future. I feel panic and despair at times, but mostly I end up centering myself in the present. Losing the feelings and existing in the cold facts is more calming. Sometimes the fact that I had intense surgery really fucks me up because I feel like an unhealthy incomplete human not safe to walk around outside or get in a car, like that I should have stayed in the hospital longer or something. (yet I have gone on day by day doing my best and going out into the world almost as normal)

There’s so much more to write but I want to wrap this up. I saw my Rheumatologist yesterday and he was certain about little, but our meeting gave me optimism and relief (like I said). He tested for inflammation with a test called PCR and it was high, signifying my Lupus is now active on some level (it was not once active the entire pregnancy or year before) and prescribed me steroids (a new treatment). He believes he has a good idea of what may have caused the pregnancy loss, anti phospholipid syndrome. He knows for certain that my Lupus did not cause the baby loss, or the disseminated intravascular coagulation. And he personal believes that I could have a healthy baby still.  I also may be treated for some anemia but will not know the results of that until my remaining blood work is completed. Yesterday they took 5 vials of blood and I hope it will be a month before they need anymore. I am a bit fatigued of being stuck with needles and grateful I was never an IV drug user. 

I see my Gynecologist tomorrow and feel nervous about that, I have not seen him since the baby loss as I was in Puntarenas being treated by different doctors. He will take out my stitches hopefully and then I really dont want to see him again. Yes talking to people about losing my baby is hard, and yes it’s because it makes it real, but I have done it and really have no choice but to keep doing it. I really do not enjoy it. 

Where to start....

I was diagnosed swiftly with Lupus like two months ago. The next day I as on a plane to Nashville and I saw my mom for two weeks. It was the best visit we've ever had I think.

She passed away two weeks and 5 days ago from heart failure connected to her COPD. It's hard to talk about now, and time is passing so quickly , but it still feels like yesterday.

Those were two very heavy paragraphs to write but I wanted to get that shit down, i have been meaning to start journaling this stuff since i have been feeling the Life heat.

Kind of feels like a forest fire is close and the air is dry and the sky is a different color, and nobody is in town it's just deserted. There's smoke but no fire yet. That's what it feels like for some reason.

Yesterday I went to yoga and it was amazing, I overcame some resentment towards this particular yoga instructor and had a great class after three weeks of not working out. Then I went home and made an awesome healthy lunch, I was still hungry after that though and made a smoothie. After rushing through the heavy smoothie I got seriously sick. I have never thrown up for 5 hours before but yesterday I did. Possible food poisoning or a food allergy.

I dislike journaling, specifically I dislike journaling on paper. Or journaling on assignment. 

A woman named Jeanie, who is now treating my relaxation with various homeopathic methods every other week on Thursday’s.. recommended as homework that I work out some mommy issues through writing. This includes my personal issues with being a mom and with my actual mom. 

It feels better to complain about doing the writing, it feels more normal and relaxing to write about writing than to do the writing I am assigned. 

The writing assignment really hasnt been that bad and definately not bad enough to kickstart my blogging back.. but whatever. 

I just want to drift off into relaxation tonight. I feel unhappy with my physical appearance and that is really distracting and disappointing. (how lame to have self esteem issues huh).. I also feel weird about a zillion other things including a phone call I’m supposed to make later. People forget that I am sensitive about the subject of losing children and I find it incredibly upsetting and disturbing that a person would just forget about that.. it was such an insane and intense thing to live through I assumed those close to me would be considerate and loving and supportive instead of.. negligent and unintentionally hurtful because they arent really paying attention of who they are talking to and that the content of their mild complaints might be DRAMATICALLY harmful for me to hear. Really know it wasnt intentional but the negligence doesnt need to be excused in my mind.. I feel a person could be more thoughtful and considerate of their audience.. I know I’m not perfect I just feel angry and wounded still from an event, a lapse in anothers judgement Friday. 

Should I keep a sign on my shirt that says “sensitive”? 

I miss tumblr so much sometimes. The relationship I used to have with my previous tumblr account was, well it was well established. I posted regularly, music I loved, things I felt, thoughts I had. Quips, quick thoughts, late night ramblings. I saw what my friends posted. I could keep mourning the loss of that blog for awhile. I gave it up for one major reason though, for Tom, and that’s still ok. 

Reasons why I havent been posting since I created this new tumblr? Because I fell out of the habit of blogging my heart, starting tweeting more three years ago, it kind of just isn’t my go to feeling expression anymore. Not that I’ve found better or more effective or pleasurable ways to express myself, no. Also my phone doesnt work unless it’s on wifi down here in Costa Rica, and now it’s actually just totally broken and has been for more than 2 weeks so I cant post mobile.Nothing can replace my old tumblr and that relationship, not easily at least. 

I like this new tumblr though, I like the name, I like the baby relationship. It’s like a new friend I know I could love and have a deep connection with but it’s just not there, it could be, but it’s not right now. 

This morning I was inspired to write because of the deep feelings I have, the intense things that are happening in my life. 

Recap on where I’m at: -no full time or even part time writing work currently only have one small project for 4 Press Releases a month and random textbroker work.  -living in Costa Rica for 11 months now -phone’s been broken for weeks so only communicating through email and facebook messages even with family. occasionally calling mom. -mom has a job! wow. shes working at the airport like 3 days a week doing idk what. but she got the job shortly after I lost my main freelancing job -getting married to Tom in one month and two days.  -have one cat (new name meatcat) -doing pilates at least three times a week, spent some of my last money on an unlimited month of pilates with my friend and pilates teacher Jen.  -going to the gym for the past like 5 months pretty regularly, try to go every other day. some sickness and injury and traveling have taken me out for a week or two every so often.  -have lost at least 20 lbs this year.  -weighed 135 yesterday -not coloring my hair anymore, desperately need a haircut, it’s been a year. 

I dont care to describe much more. I just wanted to be able to look back and know where I was at one day. 

I have been not feeling so well without major work and regret a little that I didnt try to get a good new writing job after I lost the major job I have had for the past year. I didn’t want to get a job at all for several months at the begining of the year because I was planning on being a mom not a stay at home writer and freelancer this year. I got over that eventually when the feeling of guilt for being dependant on Tom really took over around the summer time. I was making around 500 a month for the past few months sometimes more to save up for the wedding dress I wanted and to cover my bills. Writing about this still makes me feel a little sick. I’m ok with working now, not as upset about the failure to be a Mom really but what a roller coaster, not wanting a job then wanting to work more and then not having a job again. I keep telling myself and other people that I will get seriously back to work after the wedding. I hope I do. I will try. I miss the ease of having a job in the united states sometimes where I could just go to work and space out and make money doing nothing on the clock, but it was never for a high pay and really I was bored and unhappy often. Freelancing is amazing and I can do it wherever whenever from all over the globe, I think that makes it the superior option but sometimes I dream about the past jobs I had and the paychecks that just kept coming and I miss them. 

Really glad I wrote about that. Just one of many things always on my mind. 

THe job thing is big and always there because of how it effects my relationship with Tom. Tom works to pay all our bills mostly and sometimes when hes acting lazy or not focused on working regularly I get really nervous and feel controlling and then act out and try to tell him how i know he hasnt been working very much and that i’m worried we wont have enough money for the wedding or bills. I really hate all of that. I have been feeling like I need to be more appreciative of him lately and I’ve been trying to show my gratitutde by giving him less shit. It doesnt feel good instantly but overall its probably improving how i feel to not give him shit and it’s probably improving our relaitonship, but i can even be doubtful of that. Does it really help to not point out somebodys flaws? Surely I’m just mean and critical and self obsessed and afraid of not getting what I want. Even if what I want is just to have the money for the wedding and for rent and groceries. 

I have a lot of feelings about this obviously, I talk to people here about this stuff, my friends Sheila and Jen, but writing it out feels like the right thing to do also. Doesn’t make me feel tremendously better but I do understand how complicated it really is now, How complicated I’ve made it in my head. 

I want to have more faith, it’s like meditation, a warm feeling like slowly letting go of action and control in the present moment, which for some reason I believe feels like what a gentle death would feel like. Peaceful. I associate meditation and having faith with death, how funny. 

Today I want to try to make corn tortillas (I have made really awful ones twice now, but today I will use my new tortilla press). And I want to not be afraid of not having enough money. To not live in fear is a big goal of mine. I didn’t really know I had such a concrete goal, thats kind of cool.