Friday, June 19th, 2020

Today's gonna be a rough one. I know that already. I thought I was pregnant. Which, granted, isn't ideal for an 18 year old who just got engaged. I woke up with blood rushing out of me. The night before, my fiance and I had a long, long, long talk about it. Thinking I was pregnant, he insisted on an abortion. I wasn't too keen on the idea. I think everyone has a choice to do what they want with their bodies, in no way am I anti-abortion. However. For myself, I personally know I'd go through a deep depression and would likely fall into some bad habits again. I know it's a two people choice, not to mention we live with our parents (well, his biological parents, which I see as my own) so they'd have some influential input as well. Understandable. We cried. Hours. He said he has a fucked up thought. I thought it had to do with abortion, and I asked him what it was. "Well, if you have the baby, and I killed myself, you couldn't because you'd have to be a mother." My heart SANK. How could he say that? I don't think it would go that way. I told him that. The child would go into the foster care because I'd kill myself right after. I know I would. A child would be better off in a foster home, than living with the fact that their father committed suicide over it. That painful conversation is worth nothing now. All the tears, all the fears. It was all for nothing. The blood drips out of me, and in the back of my mind... I know I should be relieved but somewhere in the deepest corner of my brain and heart, I want kids, and I don't want to go by his plan. He wants to wait, wait until we are at least 25. I can't. Thats too old. I want to be like 19-20 or 21. I want my mom (not my bio mom) to teach me how to care for a newborn. He's still not gonna be ready for it by then, but thats because he doesn't want to grow up. It troubles me a bit. He lied to his parents, told them he'd go to school to be an electrician so they'd get off his ass. His parents are amazing, and I don't want to be the one who constantly explains "Well, I wish I had your parents growing up, my parents did this, this and this." Nobody wants to hear that and I know it doesn't help... but seriously, his parents are amazing. I know he takes them for granted and they don't always get the respect they deserve. I try to talk to him about it, and it's always a change of subject. It breaks my heart. I see his mom as my own, we are so alike. Grew up the same way. Selfless, caring, and we have an endless supply of love to give. Nothing is done half assed.

Fuck. Everything hurts right now, I took tylenol. Not helping.

We live together, but I wake around 5am, and he wakes up around 9-10am, he just walked out of his room and what he said rang through my ears and heart again, and I have this awful feeling in my stomach, I don't know if it's my ovaries trying to make me wince in pain, or just stress making me want to vomit. I'm heading to the doctors today and they'll likely take me off Xannax, and put me on something else for my anxiety. They will also likely test me for pregnancy... if somehow I'm still pregnant, I don't know how the hell I will feel. But I'm not spotting blood right now, it's a full on period. It's likely dead if it was anything at all.


Saturday, June 20th, 2020

Yesterday wasn't so awful. We talked about everything, him and I. In a year or so I think we should be ready enough for a baby. After the way less painful discussion, me and mom drank a lot. I mean, ALOT. I was wasted off my ass, took a Xannax, smoked pot, then drank white wine and a screwdriver after. When I downed the screwdriver, I felt okay at first. For a while. Then the world was topsy turvy. Reallll scary shit. I vomited in the toilet and my fiance took really good care of me. I think he might've been a little afraid. I'm really lucky to have such a good guy.

Fuckin hell. Why do I always have to fuck things up. I'm scared that he will wind up not going to trade school, and not want a job. Plus my period has me hurting and I started birth control and a new medication.. So I'm being kinda a bitch. Yeah I get it. "Can I have some alone time?"... It sounds perfectly fine when you type it. But not the way he said it. A snap. Cause clearly I did something wrong. First it was the damn phone games. I mean,,, really? How can you stare at a screen for so damn long clicking away and obtaining false acheivement. Maybe I was forced to grow up too soon, but I really have no interest in games at all. None. Its all pointless. And I know when we have to grow up and be parents, students, and employees that he's just gonna be bitchy and pissy about not being able to play his games.... he looks up a lot to his brother, who plays a lot of video games. But his brother also has a very good job and graduated college, so yeah... I just... I know I'm not like myself lately, but he didn't have to snap at me. He really didn't.

FUUUUCK. I feel like crying but nothing will come out. Nothing.

Ever since I got my period I feel this,,, emptiness. Like, as if I had gotten attatched to the idea of being pregnant and then not being actually pregnant made me feel as though I misscarried. Dumb, but ok. I feel so gross when I bleed like this. I feel like no one will want to ever touch me or be near me, I know I don't but I feel like I smell, or I'm constantly afraid I leaked through. Just paranoia. But it makes me want to lock myself away for hours, but I also feel this need to be comforted. None of my feelings ever seem to make sense. I hate myself.

So many paragraphs today. Christ. I love him to death. I really really do. But I don't think he really understands how to be in a relationship in real life. That's what his mom says anyway. Living with your partner is hard, I'm sure. Especially when you're so introverted and sheltered like he is. But... if I ever try to correct him on something- I'm the bitch. I try so hard.. I really do. I do his chores a lot (But thats mostly because how I am as a person and how I was raised to keep a clean house...) and I try to be kind even when he says something that hurt my feelings. I know he doesn't do or say things to hurt me on purpose, it's an impulsive thing. And I get that. But when I first moved in, he asked me once "You gonna eat that whole bag of chips??" and it really fucking hurt man. It hurt. I wanted to get up immediately and vomit all of the food away. When he's like this I can't look at him without getting that sinking feeling. I wasn't even bitching at him when he said he needed "alone time." At that point I had already realized my emotions are a little fucked right now, so I stayed quiet for a while. But then he just snapped that at me. And before that it was the whole "Can you like NOT make that sound?!" because I had diet gummy stuck in my tooth. But you should hear HIM when he's eating something! MUNCH CRUNCH MUNCH. but its okay when he does it. Ok. COOL. Noted, I guess. Idk. He's the love of my life, and I see my future with him,,, but he's got some shitty habits he needs to work on. And I'm sure I do too. He wondered if I was second guessing our realtionship and when he does something wrong, he seems to like to revert to saying "thats because Im just a shitty fiance"... and fucking hell. Its like a deflection from accepting blame and it drives me up the wall. He hits where he knows it'll hurt, because no. He's not a shitty fiance, hes not a shitty person, and hes not a shitty son. Hes genuinely a good person, Ive seen shitty people. I love him. He loves me. He knows I'll drop whatever subject it was of whatever happened, and instantly comfort him and convince him that he's not shitty, and the blame will be shifted elsewhere and forgotten.

He asked if I was mad. I lied.

Lying is not a good thing I already know that. But lying about feelings... I'm not saying that its better, but it's different than lies he's told me. For example, I am not comfortable with porn. I don't feel comfortable watching it. I don't feel comfortable with him watching it. Its a deep rooted trauama thing that I really cannot control. He lied about not watching porn when I know he had been, factually. Then he turned that one around and said "well, you lie too! You lie when I ask if your ok." I don't know. but I feel like those are two different kind of lies. Plus a good percent of the time I wind up telling him whats wrong anyway. Now he's starting to pick up my room. He's doing little nice-y nice-y things because he knows that he fucked up when he snapped at me and hurt my feelings. I don't like when he does that. It's considerate, sure. But it's just him trying to compensate for the fact that he can't accept blame or apologize sincerely. When he does apologize, he does great. For a bit. Then he kinda falls back into old ways. That's how you know it's just words. Not sincerity. I don't want to cuddle with him tonight. I wanted to all day. All day I was excited to cuddle up at night with him, but fuck it. I'm just too upset to.

All I want to do now is take my meds and knock the fuck out.

Hopefully this period will be over with soon and I won't be so goddamn moody. I genuinely don't know if I'm overreacting or not because my emotions are sooooo out of wack.


Sunday, June 21st, 2020

I went to bed early last night. After dinner, which was this really awesome steak his dad made, I told him he had to empty/load the dishwasher, which of course he wanted me to help with. I tried to say no, but as always... I couldn't. I very quietly helped put away silverware, then darted back to the room and listened to music. I bumped my head because I was sitting in the dark listening to "Daddy" by Korn and "A Psychopath" by Lisa Germano, among other songs that keep me in a mood. Around 8, I took my meds. My remeron, clonodine, and lamictal. I also wound up taking a Xannax. I wanted to just go to sleep without saying goodnight, but I couldn't bring myself to do that to him. It's too mean. Even for me. So I crept into his room, which OF COURSE, he's sitting in his chair, headphones on, playing those stupid video games. "Goodnight. Love you." I say coldly, "goodnight." I get in response. I looked down. I must've been too harsh that day, and I felt badly. I dropped to my knees by his chair, "Hey.. w-whats wrong?" I ask already knowing. He shrugs. "Nothing." He pulls one of my moves on me, I look into his eyes for a bit, and ask again, this time more softly. "Just sad." He says, he says it in a way that if I hadn't been so upset with him earlier in the day I would just hold him tightly in my arms, but I didn't think he'd respond well to that since I was so bitchy prior. I wind up apologizing, not wanting to go to bed angry at him. "If theres anything you need, or if you just want to talk, you can always wake me up, ya know." And with that I left the room and laid down on the couch.

At about 2am, I feel the other side of the couch dip, and I feel hands caressing me gently. I open my eyes to see my fiance, trying to lay down with me. I smile groggily, and happily move over, our arms around each other. "Wanna cuddle in my room for a bit?" I nod my head, and follow him in, setting a timer so I don't wind up staying in there through the night and disrespecting his parents. I don't think he took his meds last night. After leaving, I talked with mom for a while and wound up falling back asleep for a few hours on the couch.

Today's off to an okay start. I've been fidgeting with my star of David necklace thinking about Grandpa. It is Father's day after all.

I miss my Dad. I miss Grandpa too.

I want Dad to visit me. I am always afraid that he's gonna die before I get to see him again. Afterall, Jen doesn't exactly cook the best food for a type 2 diabetic. I messaged Dad this morning. No reply, oh well. If Dad dies, and I go to the funeral, I always have this reoccuring thought that Jen will scream at me and blame me for his death. "You stressed him out too much! You sucked him dry! This is your fault! If you weren't such a shitty child he would still be alive!!!!" Agh... those thoughts always make me so so sad. It makes me remember all the times Dad was there for me and I took it for granted. All the times he'd be at the hospital, and I would ask "Where's mom?!" ( as in my biological mother) instead of thanking him for being the parent who stayed with me. All the plays that Mom said she'd show up to, and everytime I would peek from behind the curtains, waiting and waiting for her. Always disappointed. There was one person who was always there, and that was my father. He sat at the hospitals with me, day and night, from each suicide attempt failed. I never thanked him. I wonder if he knows how grateful I really am for him. Mom would always make me hate him, but in reality, I should've known better. I flip-flopped so often... It was one second I hated Dad, the next I hated mom. Now I hate nobody. I have feelings about mom that aren't exactly happy feelings, but I can't say I hate her.