Toohoomit Mayconcern
If you don't hear from me a while it's because I'm ded of angst.
If you do hear from me, it's an angst revenant trying desperately to cling to some semblance of life.
At this point in the pregnancy, it takes all of my energy except for the braingremlin that thinks I should be doing something active, something that I can see progress on, and berates me for not actually being able. I wrote an appendix to the Traveller's Guide today in a fit of something-or-other, and I can't find anywhere else I can make progress on that project, so despite getting a couple of pages into the manuscript it depresses me. I can't figure out how to start on the thing I was all enthusiastic about yesterday. I'm too white to feel able to call someone on their atrocious displays of cis privilege, and I feel like shit about the entire situation. I feel helpless and hopeless about addressing a relationship issue that's causing me active distress, though at least I got snuggles today when I tried to talk about it. I can't find my kyphi stash, though I have the incense for Set and specifically formulated Nut and Hetharu incenses up in the bedroom, I should do a three-fer burning again to try to center for labor. Again. First try was reasonably effective, so maybe this will be, right? There's some hope somewhere?
I would probably be able to deal with all of this a lot better if I hadn't - by the sensation - ripped something in my right foot, leading to more-than-occasional instances of sudden-scream level pain. The original guess about what happened is the pregnancy edema separated the callus from the skin; the other day I swear I felt something rip up towards my ankle, and since then it's been hurting more consistently and more often. I have someone to call about this tomorrow, I tried to get it sorted today and I'm just not fucking coherent enough to explain what's wrong.
I was okay earlier today. I talked with Dad. I was cheerful about some stuff I ordered. We talked about how I may go to a minor league game on Friday, and how the baby's doing, and all that stuff. And him maybe coming and visiting if I need help, since teinedreugan's parents aren't going to be immediately available like we were thinking.
Now I'm just ... leaking ... from the pain and stress, because I tried to stand up, and it pulled the sore spot, and I fell over onto my back and just wailed. And I'm not tired enough to sleep and there's Nothing. In the universe. For me to do. Except sit and wallow in my psychological turmoil.
I'm frail and vulnerable and I feel useless and I'm defensive about that because I'm a headcase about that sort of thing even when I'm not ... like I am at the moment. I want to be happy. I want to be able to relax and destress and wait for the fishie to decide it's time to bail out of me and get back to some of the centered places I have. I want to curl up with my husbands and be safe and okay and watch the Spinners. Instead of that I'm gender and personality/plurality dysphoric, overloaded, angst-laden, and crying in pain.
That's the state of the me. At least now.
It'll be something completely different tomorrow, I'm sure. In some ways that's the worst part of it all.
Well, except for the pain. I'm pretty sure I'm stuck with the goddamn pain for a bit.
If you do hear from me, it's an angst revenant trying desperately to cling to some semblance of life.
At this point in the pregnancy, it takes all of my energy except for the braingremlin that thinks I should be doing something active, something that I can see progress on, and berates me for not actually being able. I wrote an appendix to the Traveller's Guide today in a fit of something-or-other, and I can't find anywhere else I can make progress on that project, so despite getting a couple of pages into the manuscript it depresses me. I can't figure out how to start on the thing I was all enthusiastic about yesterday. I'm too white to feel able to call someone on their atrocious displays of cis privilege, and I feel like shit about the entire situation. I feel helpless and hopeless about addressing a relationship issue that's causing me active distress, though at least I got snuggles today when I tried to talk about it. I can't find my kyphi stash, though I have the incense for Set and specifically formulated Nut and Hetharu incenses up in the bedroom, I should do a three-fer burning again to try to center for labor. Again. First try was reasonably effective, so maybe this will be, right? There's some hope somewhere?
I would probably be able to deal with all of this a lot better if I hadn't - by the sensation - ripped something in my right foot, leading to more-than-occasional instances of sudden-scream level pain. The original guess about what happened is the pregnancy edema separated the callus from the skin; the other day I swear I felt something rip up towards my ankle, and since then it's been hurting more consistently and more often. I have someone to call about this tomorrow, I tried to get it sorted today and I'm just not fucking coherent enough to explain what's wrong.
I was okay earlier today. I talked with Dad. I was cheerful about some stuff I ordered. We talked about how I may go to a minor league game on Friday, and how the baby's doing, and all that stuff. And him maybe coming and visiting if I need help, since teinedreugan's parents aren't going to be immediately available like we were thinking.
Now I'm just ... leaking ... from the pain and stress, because I tried to stand up, and it pulled the sore spot, and I fell over onto my back and just wailed. And I'm not tired enough to sleep and there's Nothing. In the universe. For me to do. Except sit and wallow in my psychological turmoil.
I'm frail and vulnerable and I feel useless and I'm defensive about that because I'm a headcase about that sort of thing even when I'm not ... like I am at the moment. I want to be happy. I want to be able to relax and destress and wait for the fishie to decide it's time to bail out of me and get back to some of the centered places I have. I want to curl up with my husbands and be safe and okay and watch the Spinners. Instead of that I'm gender and personality/plurality dysphoric, overloaded, angst-laden, and crying in pain.
That's the state of the me. At least now.
It'll be something completely different tomorrow, I'm sure. In some ways that's the worst part of it all.
Well, except for the pain. I'm pretty sure I'm stuck with the goddamn pain for a bit.