I plead guilty. I've got some feelings that have been avoided for 9 years and I need to stop avoiding them and deal with them. Could be a rough weekend. The plan is to let myself experience them honestly, work through them, and move on. It's been a long time coming.
I was sitting on the love seat in our trailer, nursing the baby I didn't want, trying not to hate her. I trust you can all tell by now that I'm already over the hate part. It may come to a complete shock to those of you who know us IRL these days. As per usual at that time of day, the TV was on and tuned to the Early Show on CBS. I was looking forward to seeing the "dreams come true" segment they had been promising. And then, it happened.
What the hell? How could a big giant airplane plow into a building like that? Who could make that kind of mistake? Big planes like that shouldn't even come near skyscrapers! Is the pilot on drugs?
Fuck. Another plane hit the neighboring building. This can't be an accident. This is war. How can we be at war? I live in the USA. I'm safe, right? The government protects us. They wouldn't let t his happen to us. It's too much. Too scary. It can't be real.
People jumping off of roofs, buildings crumbling, area being evacuated, panic panic panicpanicpanic.
I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry. so sorry. You didn't deserve to be brought into this hellish world. How could I do this to you? I didn't want this. I didn't do it on purpose. It's not fair to bring innocent babies into this nightmare. I'm sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry . . .
Rocking, crying. Baby is one week old. She has no idea what mom's babbling on about. Sorry, sorry, sorry sorry sorrysorrysorrysosorrysosorrysosorry . . .
My mother is staying with us to "help" with the new baby. Apparently this consists of holding her while she is happy. I am getting no sleep, fearing that child services will take my baby, hoping they will, very delusional with post partum insanity. Sorry. so sorrysosorry. Vulnerability the likes of which I've never experienced before. I've been violated personally, abused, manipulated my whole life. I have no coping strategies for the vulnerability of my country.
I call husband. Sister calls. I call Mandy or she calls me. I don't remember which. She snaps me out of it. I stop thinking about killing myself to avoid being killed. We'll see what happens. . If I end my life now, there's no going back.
In the weeks to come, I send granmda home, take care of the baby as best I can, still resenting her for my lost sleep, my lost dreams, my lost life. I can always ride it out and off myself later. I find I can make and eat an entire batch of brownies while husband is at work, and clean up so he never knows. Not pregnant anymore, so I don't have to follow the stinkin diabetic diet. A few weeks later Mandy comes to visit with her toddler and her new baby. We have a great time. First fun I've had in months. We pig out on Hostess cakes from a nearby outlet.
That night, I'm in the ER, then sent home. Then back in the hospital. Happy Halloween, now I know what fear is. Gangrenous abdomen. Pain unlike anything I've ever imagined. This is as close to death as I'm going to get. They remove my appendix, syphon out the poisonous infection, and keep me for a week. Finally, I'm inconsolable and need to be home with my baby. After a week of pumping and dumping milk, I go back to struggling to breastfeed. I do this through end of November. My birthday present to me and bonus gift for my baby, is we buy formula. We are now in love, sleeping through the night, and playing normally.
Anxiety continues until medication evens me out months and months later.
I may not be a doctor, but I know what fear is.
Where were you on Sept 11, 2001?