Endless Ranting

I am frustrated.

I have never been in such a scary situation in my life.  I know I have spent a lot of time judging others in my life, for which I’ve become recently ashamed.  Some things happen in ways that you cannot control.  Sometimes a man who doesn’t want to marry you gets you pregnant, and although he tries to do right by you, you will never shake that feeling that being a single mother is just around the corner.  On one hand, perhaps I should be thankful that I have someone who’s interested and willing to attempt being a father.  On the other hand, it is certainly scary to think that that person isn’t interested in you; they are interested in the thing that has hijacked your body and left you with few freedoms….

even to your own emotions sometimes.  I don’t even get to feel how I want to feel.  And then I get chastised for being emotional.  I feel trapped.

It’s not that I don’t believe single mothers are strong and tough.  I respect them, and even wouldn’t mind being one.  I just wish sometimes that I could know when it was going to happen.  It’s the dread that really overwhelms you.  That makes you not stop at Starbucks today because you could save that $5 for an unknown and scary event that might happen five years from now, or tomorrow.  It makes me worry over pennies I never would have fretted at spending 5 months ago.  Money has never mattered to me before.

Being pregnant and unmarried is a terrifying experience.  There is never a moment of feeling "safe."  You constantly worry about how you will take care of yourself and a child should the worst happen.  I would almost rather have a wedding and a divorce just for a moment’s peace of mind.  And that’s saying something, since my mother being on her third husband has made me slightly averse to the idea of divorce.

I thought writing would make me feel better, but it’s just making me …___________.

Fill in the blank, because I don’t know anymore.  I’m trapped inside my own body, where I’m not in control anymore, and I’m stuck here for another four months while I grow ugly and fat and people continue to tell me "I’m growing a miracle" when it just feels like I’m growing a big ball of stress that roots itself in my stomach and expands as my consciousness blossoms each morning.  Pregnant women aren’t supposed to feel resentment.

Things that wouldn’t bother me on a normal day to day basis end up becoming huge issues in my mind because I feel so unsafe in my future.  Every day is an example of why he won’t be there tomorrow.

I thought writing would make me feel better.  Well, at least when I’m in a place both geographically and emotionally where I have nobody to talk to, I have a blank slate.

Always,
Afton