Sunday 17 August 2008

Ridiculous Thoughts

I think it's time for me to look at myself in the mirror and really question what I see. I know I'm overweight - but as I still have curves and I still have a figure, I've never believed it was a serious problem. Until now. It's been over 8 months - almost 9 months, actually - since Adrian and I started trying for a baby. Considering we're both still young, and both fertile (I've been pregnant to him twice), I have to start facing facts. I am overweight. More than overweight. I am very overweight. My BMI classes me as obese, although I still have trouble accepting this. My view of obesity doesn't seem to include my body type. Or as I've viewed it, anyhow. As of today, I weight 87kg. I'm 5'2. That's a lot of weight to carry on such a small frame, isn't it. *sigh* How did I get this far?? I mean, I know the theory behind it, but honestly - how did I end up so SO defeated? I started out two months ago trying to lose weight - trying to eat right, exercising every day, going to the gym twice a week - and lately I've done nothing. I've not put on weight. I've not lost it. I've stayed the same. And now another failure. We really did try this month - although there were two occasions where I thought I might have been ovulating and no hanky-spanky was made. Possibly that is the reason why I'm not pregnant now - although, I'm sure we got in there at the right time at least once... I'm so disappointed - more so, I'm so depressed. And obsessed! And oh so ashamed to think the reason might be because - I eat more than I use. It's so easy to do here. But there's no excuse - I know what I have to do to make things right. Why is it so hard to keep myself motivated??? I have really really good days where I get things done, I work hard - and I'm so much happier in life and within myself on these days. Why do I not do so all the time? I want to be a good girlfriend, I want to have a clean home, I want to have a healthy, happy, sexual relationship - which I do... mostly. Except for me. Except for me. Am I depressed again? Is that why I can't seem to get out of bed in the morning, why I can't seem to generate enough energy to do anything? Why I lash out at Adrian every day he comes home from work? I feel guilty for not doing anything all day while he's been slaving away at a job that doesn't pay anywhere nearly what he's worth. Yet I don't do anything about it - instead I direct my guilt on him. Why do I do that? And what's worse - he takes it, and he shouldn't! I start fights because I'm so unhappy with myself. Just like I blame everything on this town and the people in it - it's not your location that limits you. Kade has shown me that - you can do what you want, no-one can truly stop you. No-one is holding me back except me. Why do I do that? Seems ridiculous, like so many things we do to ourselves. But why *am* I doing it?? I know I'm doing it, that's the most ridiculous thing! I don't want to fail. I don't want to be a failure. I know I have so much to offer, yet I don't do anything about it. I need to treat myself better. And I need to treat Adrian better. He deserves better. When I'm better, he's better. Seriously, we feed off each other, and because I've been lazy and unmotivated, he has been also. I say I'm a strong person, but I'm being so weak at the moment. I know I want a baby, but I shouldn't be holding my breath for that positive result. I should be working hard to achieve my other goals. Like getting my body back. Adrian may like the way I am, but I sure don't. And it affects the way I live. It affects the way I dress. It affects the way I act. It affects the way I am with him. I don't want him to look at me naked. I don't want him to touch my... tumbly places. I'm better than this, man - I've come through so much, yet here I am, letting myself fall. I don't know if this has something to do with losing my baby or having granddad die suddenly - or both. Maybe this is grief or whatever. I wish there was some way I could get counselling. I think I probably have things I need to get off my chest - and you know me (well, you don't anonymous Internet Monster - but you might guess), I just can't seem to get things out to the people who really care. Or, rather - I seem to let the things that are really getting to me slide back inside for no-one to see. Yes, I bottle. Can't help it - never seem to believe that anyone would want to know. And the few times I do venture out and talk about things, I always seem to choose the wrong person, and regret ever saying anything. Are my feelings that alien? Do I whinge that much? I don't know. I always feel so alone. Like... no-one understands. Depression is a bit like being stuck in adolescence, isn't it?!! Ridiculous. Corr, used that word a few times in this blog.
Ridiculous that I'm sitting here in the dark (because my light bulb blew), the sink is full of dishes that Adrian never finished (as usual), and I'm crying in front of my computer because I'm FAT and not pregnant yet. So counter-productive. I should be outside, running around in the dark in the hopes I can outrun my fat arse. Hahahaha. Oh, so depressingly true. Instead, I'll sit here and crack jokes about it. Fuck, I don't know what it is about mornings - I could have a million coffees to wake myself up, yet I'll still be yawning an hour later, and the coffee would have given me the shits. Cos it does. Which is why I rarely drink it. I'm sure you wanted to know. And inside my head, the whole time I've been writing about my weight issues, I keep crying out "But I'm not that fat!!!" - just because my waist still goes in, because my tummy doesn't stick out THAT much, because I don't look atrociously massive and all consuming like the contestants from Biggest Loser. For all I know, I might be so down and low in energy lately because I am that fat. For all I know, my eyes lie to me, and refuses to see how big I truly am. No-one close to me is going to tell me I'm ridiculously overweight. Except granddad. He would always let me know. Fat-fat-the-water-rat. That's what he used to sing to me. Except now I think he might have been the only person who was truly honest. And where the hell is Minnie in all of this??! I sent her an email weeks ago that she still hasn't answered. I'm not important anymore now that she's travelling all over the place - and the sad thing is, I really miss her. I miss all my friends. God, this blog is turning into a big whingefest. Hence the reason why I use THIS blog to really whinge and cry rather than the other one. This stuff is so much more personal.

Anyway, I've indulged my pity-party (population= 1) for far too long. But I feel a little lighter for it. I just have to... work harder. Get back on the bandwagon. I was doing so well - just have to work harder. Every month I get only one red line, I just have to work harder the next month. No alcohol, nothing. I have to stick to the rules, cos maybe that's where I've been going wrong.

And creativity - what the fuck? I have so much I can do with my time, creativity wise. Why am I not doing it? I could be writing poetry, writing songs like I used to rather than just blogs. What is a blog anyway? No-one wants to read these - except my friends, maybe. This is just for my benefit, really. Counselling myself. Via blog. Long, spindly, spinster blogs about how I've wasted my life on so many wrong men (two), and I wish I'd met Adrian sooner. For fucks sake, I'm living my life through my pregnant cat. What happens if something goes wrong there? Will I cope with the heart-break? Why is it I feel more motivated and ready to tackle life at night? I wish I was a morning person. Seriously - Adrian wakes up at 5am every morning - even on the weekend! I wish I could do that. Occasionally I can, but mostly - I can't. I find it hard to get out of bed before 9am these days. I guess that makes a change from my student days when I found it hard to get out of bed before 10am on a weekend. I just have to resolve to do better. That's the bottom line. I have to do better.

And what the fuck, man??! Why the hell am I NOT doing music stuff??!! I live with a fucking awesome guitarist!! We keep saying we'll try and do something together, but we never do. Well, now that Nijel has moved out, we should do something. We've got the time (we can make time), we've got the privacy. I don't know why I'm so shy about sharing lyrics and melodies with Adrian. He'd only ever be honest - and always gently so. *sigh* Why do we make plans upon plans upon plans... but never seem to follow them through? A ridiculous waste of potential.

I love you mum.
I wish they had telephones in heaven. I wonder how much Telstra would charge for a phonecall to heaven? Would that be considered an international call??!
xxx
.m.

Sunday 3 August 2008

Possibly. Maybe? Oneday...

This is my creepy honest blog, where I try to be 100% honest with myself. The only person who has access to it (that I know of, anyway), is Sarah - even then, I'm not sure she looks. Still, I have to admit to myself (in a very quiet, tentative tone) - it does hurt a little. There we go, admitted. What the hell am I on about? Well - I've been curious. And they do say curiousity killed the cat - but it can also make you feel things you don't want to feel. I admit - I looked at Nicole's profile, and I have done on a few occasions. Because I can. Because I was curious - not in a bitter, nasty, lets-look-for-flaws kind of way. In all honesty, in a good curious way. To see how things are now, and because I don't know - I was bloody curious, alright? Sheesh, talk about third degree! So yeah. I look. She seems like a nice enough person. But yesterday I looked, and I saw Maiya's 1st birthday photos. I've seen photos of her before and not felt this. But yesterday, I felt... so sad. For me. Time just seems to fly by so fast, and I've been trying for a baby since January... the year is almost up. No baby. One pregnancy resulting in miscarriage (blighted ovum). At least I know I can get pregnant, right? Ha. It's a small consolation. Because I'm not pregnant. I got pregnant before Jodi, and just as she finds out she's pregnant, I'm told I've lost mine. Or, rather, that it never developed. I don't resent Jodi. I don't even feel jealous/envious or any of those nasty, bad-tasting emotions. I just feel sad. For me. Happy for Jodi, so so happy they're going to get the wee boy (BIG boy!) they wanted, but... sad for me. Not that Adrian and I have really tried all that hard - we've just been going about things naturally, having sex when we want to, not pushing the issue like we did before (it seems the best way to get pregnant), but now I'm at my limit with the cruisy method. I want to get pregnant NOW, I want THIS month to be THE month. I wanted last month to be the month, too - and I had convinced myself as much - to the point where I bought a test and everything! But, right on cue - ... suffice to say, I'm pretty certain it wasn't implantation bleeding. Although this period has been a weird one - really light, but unfortunately not light enough to warrant wasting a $20 test. *sigh* I just wish Adrian was a little more supportive about it. Him and his fucking vices, seriously - I wonder some times if it's always going to be like this, constantly having to nag him to get things done. I'm hoping once Nijel moves out, Adrian won't be so bad. His bachelor status will have been revoked for good, and he'll HAVE to settle down and be responsible. Oh, honestly - he's not that bad. He's actually pretty wonderful, and I love him so very very much... but I hate having to push him to get things done. Like that fucking oven... grrrrr.... *sigh* I get through each day by telling myself one day... one day...
One day soon? Possibly. Maybe, even. But one day, for sure.

Just looking at those photos... it did hurt. She's beautiful. And quite precious. Those angry, bitter feelings of why him and not me don't really happen anymore, but I have to admit there is a barely audible whisper floating around. It just doesn't seem quite right, does it? After everything, after all the tears, the pain, the anger. But at the same time, I wish him well. Or do I? Is that just something I feel I *should* say in order to be a good person? Would it make me a bad person to say I've often wished that everything will go horribly wrong - like, Nicole will cheat on him and leave him with a baby to tend for? Or that he'll fuck up again and she'll take the baby and leave him? I don't have those feelings anymore. But it does make me a little sad for myself knowing he's got so much and I have so much yet to achieve. One day... one day.

I often wonder if I'm doing this for the right reasons, too. Part of me wants a baby (and if I'm 120% honest with myself here) because I want to show him that I can move on too, and move on further than he can! Yes, there is a very small part of me that feels that. That's my vindictive streak coming through. And I'm ashamed to feel that. Ashamed that a part of me is trying to conceive because I want to hurt someone else. It's a ridiculous, childish feeling, because what difference would it make to him, anyway? I guess, while I might be over our relationship together, I'm not 100% over him achieving the one goal I've spent my life gearing up for. One of the main ingredients in what I class as a Successful, Fulfilled Person. The others being - a happy partnership, a career and a house. Mind you, I class this as a Successful Person because this is what I want for myself. Mostly, though, I want family.
Which leads me to my second reason that could be suspected of selfishness; I want a family because I have always felt so alone and unwanted. I've always felt on the outside of things, and not as important to those I love as they are to me. And I guess in a lot of ways, having a baby means I can lavish my love upon them and be assured that they will love me back, regardless of my faults. Is that selfish? I'm not sure, at the moment I'm wondering what the reasons are that anyone would want a baby. Other than the continuation of a family line, anyway. It feels to me like it's the one thing that will make my heart stop bleeding, as melodramatic as that sounds. Some days I'm so bursting with love, it's hard to bare - and there's only so much love you can give a pet. Especially a cat! With every major relationship, I've had that feeling of "I want your baby". But none so badly as I've felt with Adrian. Is that because I got pregnant that time? When we were first together? I think about that baby every day. Wondering if the reason I can't seem to fall pregnant now is because I terminated a pregnancy I wanted back then. At the time (and I say this all the time, I could say it until my mouth dries up and it would still be true... but it doesn't take away the guilt), it was The Right Thing To Do. And I will forever defend my actions. Because I DID believe it to be the right thing to do. Do I regret it now, though? Every day. Every single day. If I went back in time to those days, would I do things differently? I'm not so sure. Because I'm not sure that Adrian and I would survive a baby that was unplanned for. Not when he was so dead-set against it. It would be much better, for both of us - if a baby was wanted by both of us. And while Adrian isn't as keen as I am (what man is, honestly??!), he does want one. With me.
My third reason that could also be suspect? Because I need my life to change. Completely. I need my life to be about someone else, I need to focus my energies on something more than me, more than us, more than just our day to day living. I need... a purpose. A cause. Something to believe in, something to fight for, something to love, to nurture, to protect and give all my heart, experience and life to. Is that a bad reason? Again, I'm unsure. I don't know what the right reasons for having a child should be. I know what the really wrong reasons are - to have a child to keep a man, to have a child to get more money, to have a child because you can, to have a child because you're expected to, to have a child because you like the attention... they're all really wrong reasons. Doesn't necessarily mean you'll be a bad parent (although some of them seem to indicate that, don't they!!).
I don't just want a baby. I want Adrian's baby. I want a little boy who looks just like him. Or a little girl who looks like the two of us! But, I remember wanting a little boy who looked like Che, also. I was so in love with him, I wanted something of us to care for and protect. But I also knew it would be a very bad idea to get pregnant to him. I knew that if I did, I would have to either get rid of it, or leave him. We were poisonous together - and he couldn't help but hurt me and weaken me. I am not a weak person, I am a strong, capable person. I should not be around people who smother me like that. And he did smother me - not in a loving way, but in a controlling way. So that would have been wrong. But I knew that! The whole time! So does that mean I'm doing things right this time? Adrian will be a wonderful father, I think. He's a wonderful man, I can't see how he could ever be a bad father. He could possibly be a little hard on our child, though - but that's something we can discuss before the possible child was born. I don't know, I could be selfish, but - then you could say all mothers start out quite selfish. I mean, I think we all want a child because of that love you share with them. Is that wrong? No. I've decided, no, it's not wrong. Love is what makes us human. It's what makes us humane. It's what makes us GOOD. Without love, how can you ever hope to be a good person?

Anyway, I think I just had to let that little secret out. I think Maiya is beautiful, and she really is starting to look like her mother. Quite possibly looks like Che around the eyes. I am truly happy for the two of them, and I hope everything works out for them. I just hope that one day I'll finally get what I want so much out of life, and my real life can begin. Everything before it will just seem like the necessary lessons need to learn in order to be a better parent. I am so ready for it.

-Miranda

Thursday 21 February 2008

Body Betrayal

I feel devastated. Two failed attempts - I haven't even had to use a test, yet. This is so hard! I know it's only been a couple of months of serious trying... but we're both young! Healthy! What is going on here??
So now I've started the dreaded Ovulation Chart process. It's kinda gross - you have to track your cervical mucus and stuff. Never thought I'd end up doing this sort of crap. So... TV. But I don't want this to keep being failure after failure. As it is, I've now discovered my cycle is NOT regular, as I previously suspected. No, it is quite irregular, annoyingly so. And it is now averaged out at 26, rather than the text book 28 - although I've also found out now that most women range from about 24 to like... 40 days in cycle length. Up yours, textbook! Sucky, though. There's a maximum of six days where I can get pregnant, and if Adrian's little swimmers are less than willing, no baby.

So humiliating to say Its Not Working!! If I hear another "I got pregnant on the first try!", I will start strangling people. It is true what they say: the minute you start trying, it suddenly becomes hard. All those years avoiding pregnancy, and now that I want it, it's all evasive and full of trickery. TRICKERY!! All the time I think about it, all the time! I dream about being pregnant, I fantasize, I image, I wonder... I've already decided I want a water birth, picked out names, etc, etc, etc. All my dreams are based on this - I guess it's no wonder my body is crashing under all the pressure.

Eh. So we have to try harder. I'll keep you posted.
.m.

Tuesday 5 February 2008

Maybe?

Possibly?
It's possible. I have to wait to find out, and it's the waiting that's excruciating. If only it was like switching on a light bulb : *Click* Pregnant. *Click* Not Pregnant. *Click* Pregnant. Every day since I got my period last month, I've been wondering if I'll ever BE pregnant. And then I wonder about the termination. Was that my one and only hope? I feel guilty about it, obviously - the words "I'm being punished" keep floating around my head. I remember my mother saying the reason she lost so many babies was because she was "being punished" for having two abortions early in life. At the time, it seemed ridiculous that a god would punish the taking of life by... taking more life. Seems counter-productive, doesn't it? But there's always been a very deep-seeded fear in my heart that... I might not be able to get pregnant. That I might not be a mother. I'm always in the process of telling myself to calm down, it's only been one month. It will take more than just one go, it always does when you're trying. Besides, I could be pregnant right now. My period isn't due until the 23rd, I've got a while to keep trying. Evil biological clocks. Evil. Impatient, demanding, desperate biological clocks. Adrian doesn't get it. He keeps telling me "don't stress! It'll happen!". But he doesn't know how it feels. This constant pressure, this constant feeling of running out of time, that one day it'll be too late, and I'll only ever be... me. There will always been that painful, aching gape in my heart. Sometimes I feel I've left it too long. I think about that baby I terminated. Lately, I've been thinking about it a lot. The only reason Adrian agreed to try for a baby - because otherwise I wouldn't have terminated the last one. Because otherwise, we'd have a baby already. I think about that a lot. And I worry.

But I'm being good this time. Trying to keep stress-free. Trying to remain calm. Eating better, sleeping better. Trying to lull this ceaseless, panicking biological clock into a quiet drowsiness. If only. Maybe this time. Truly. Maybe this time.

.m.

Thanks Sarah!

You're completely right, of course. This is a Good Idea. So good, it warrents capitals. And good thinking to have it seperate from your other blog! I tried doing this sort of thing with my My Space... but I don't like My Space. It's like shouting into a long, dark, dank well. All you hear is yourself, echoing. I like Google. It's Googly.

Stories you say?
I've been trying to write stories again for years. I just can't seem to do it anymore. Something broke in me, I think. I can't write like I used to. Now all I write is stuff about me. If I was famous, I could write a memoir and get lots of money from it. Eh.
Every time I sit down and think "I'm going to write something", I get to about... page two. Then everything before it seems so fake and melodramatic. *sigh* I wanted to be a writer since I could write. I think life broke me. Poosey.

So now I feel an instant pang of jealously for anyone who can sit down and write something. I wish I could. It used to make me feel so complete.
Ah well. You go, Sarah, you've still got the magic - run with it! Maybe if you write, it might inspire me to try (again)? I hope so. I want to be able to write like I used to. I hardly ever finished anything, though. I know I'm my own worst critic... maybe I'm too hard on myself? I never share anything, so I wouldn't know, hahaha! I've been told I write well, but I never really believe compliments. Urgh, especially from family.

Oo. My tum a-rumbles. Must chow.
Oo, and ciao!!
xxx
.m.