Small Updates Are Possible
I've decided to stop trying for real updates with meaningful and thoughtful paragraphs, and downshift instead to just simplistic, small updates. In this case, I feel that quantity may be over quality, since it's the big things I'll most likely recall, not the small stuff.
I'm so tired that I have started to have mild hallucinations again. This time they seem auditory (they've been visual in the past). I hear Brian humming his "go to sleep" song, despite the fact that he's not here. I'm so glad I'm past the ages of typical onset of schizophrenia, or this would really, really freak me out. Instead, I think it's just that I have some sensitivity to mental illness through depression and mild anxiety, and so when I get so exhausted (as I am) the hallucinations are easier. They're very infrequent, but they happen.
I have recently learned that I'm actually not the bra size I thought. I'm a 34K (possibly when I lose some weight I will actually be a 32K). This reads to me as 34,000 thanks to the abbreviation of thousand with "k" and I feel that is very appropriate for the size of breasts I have right now. I often feel when we go out and I see other women's breasts that mine are comically large. Like, not reality large. They're just ridiculous. We were at Gymboree Open Play, Freya and I, and she got very attached to this medium-small orange ball. She just loved sort of hugging it to herself and resting on it, and it was afterwards that I realized she had probably loved it because it was a lot like the size of my boobs. I've wanted to get her one ever since (a ball, not a boob). Freestanding boobies!
I looked in the mirror recently and I wanted to cry over what motherhood has done to my face. I'm pudgy and bloated fat. My undereyes are ridiculous--puffy, purpled, and lined with wrinkles I never had before. The lines on my face have deepened, and I've gotten forehead wrinkles that sometimes stick around long after the expression that made them has faded. My eyebrows are almost never properly plucked anymore, because I just forget about them in the haze of trying to remember everything, so there's always random straggler hairs around making me look more unkempt.
Lately, it's looked more and more possible for me to make some friends. I've even been on a few playdates with the same person that wasn't arranged through MeetUp. On MeetUp, I've been to two with the same couple, and they've expressed interest in seeing us again (maybe even independently!). And it makes me want to WITHDRAW. I have spent all this time yearning for friends, hoping for friends, desperate for friends. And as soon as it starts to become reality, I start to freak out. Honestly, I think it's because of the emotional drain of friendship, and I'm afraid of what it will mean to have that much less for myself. It's not the only feeling there (I also really, really want it to work out), but it's still a part of it. I'm going to soldier on, and do my best to be proactive and act interested (I am interested, but sometimes you have to make that VERY CLEAR). But, I think all these years of social isolation has really taken a toll on my social skills. Also, I am now complete shit when it comes to reading whether people like me or not. I used to be not so awesome, but now I'm deplorable. I just assume no one likes me. Like, forever. "They're texting me asking me to come over to their house and play and chat...they probably don't like me and just feel obligated." "They're smiling and laughing--they probably think I'm stupid." You know. Reasonable leaps like that.
I am typing this frantically while Freya still sleeps in the other room, hoping for a little more time to myself before she wakes up. I can't believe some parents get this EVERY DAY when their child naps.
I'm so tired that I have started to have mild hallucinations again. This time they seem auditory (they've been visual in the past). I hear Brian humming his "go to sleep" song, despite the fact that he's not here. I'm so glad I'm past the ages of typical onset of schizophrenia, or this would really, really freak me out. Instead, I think it's just that I have some sensitivity to mental illness through depression and mild anxiety, and so when I get so exhausted (as I am) the hallucinations are easier. They're very infrequent, but they happen.
I have recently learned that I'm actually not the bra size I thought. I'm a 34K (possibly when I lose some weight I will actually be a 32K). This reads to me as 34,000 thanks to the abbreviation of thousand with "k" and I feel that is very appropriate for the size of breasts I have right now. I often feel when we go out and I see other women's breasts that mine are comically large. Like, not reality large. They're just ridiculous. We were at Gymboree Open Play, Freya and I, and she got very attached to this medium-small orange ball. She just loved sort of hugging it to herself and resting on it, and it was afterwards that I realized she had probably loved it because it was a lot like the size of my boobs. I've wanted to get her one ever since (a ball, not a boob). Freestanding boobies!
I looked in the mirror recently and I wanted to cry over what motherhood has done to my face. I'm pudgy and bloated fat. My undereyes are ridiculous--puffy, purpled, and lined with wrinkles I never had before. The lines on my face have deepened, and I've gotten forehead wrinkles that sometimes stick around long after the expression that made them has faded. My eyebrows are almost never properly plucked anymore, because I just forget about them in the haze of trying to remember everything, so there's always random straggler hairs around making me look more unkempt.
Lately, it's looked more and more possible for me to make some friends. I've even been on a few playdates with the same person that wasn't arranged through MeetUp. On MeetUp, I've been to two with the same couple, and they've expressed interest in seeing us again (maybe even independently!). And it makes me want to WITHDRAW. I have spent all this time yearning for friends, hoping for friends, desperate for friends. And as soon as it starts to become reality, I start to freak out. Honestly, I think it's because of the emotional drain of friendship, and I'm afraid of what it will mean to have that much less for myself. It's not the only feeling there (I also really, really want it to work out), but it's still a part of it. I'm going to soldier on, and do my best to be proactive and act interested (I am interested, but sometimes you have to make that VERY CLEAR). But, I think all these years of social isolation has really taken a toll on my social skills. Also, I am now complete shit when it comes to reading whether people like me or not. I used to be not so awesome, but now I'm deplorable. I just assume no one likes me. Like, forever. "They're texting me asking me to come over to their house and play and chat...they probably don't like me and just feel obligated." "They're smiling and laughing--they probably think I'm stupid." You know. Reasonable leaps like that.
I am typing this frantically while Freya still sleeps in the other room, hoping for a little more time to myself before she wakes up. I can't believe some parents get this EVERY DAY when their child naps.