I had one kind of frustrating day. I finally found a therapist up here, and made an appointment to see her. God knows I do need help. I'm ok, but not thriving. And I want to be ready and poised to take antidepressants as soon as baby is done breastfeeding. I am going to try to stick out 6 more months. But talking helps too, as does 2 hours to myself in the middle of the day. So therapy. I had an appointment scheduled. My second with this particular psychiatric nurse practitioner. And as I was feeding Gumball lunch, the fire alarm started going off. Not full force, but an annoying cheep cheep cheep every minute or so. So I changed the battery, reset it, and waited. It kept cheeping. I called my mom, my friend E, and my neighbor. No help whatsoever. I called property management, and they sent a repair person. I was very anxious, and called the therapist to let her know I might be late, or might not come at all- BUT that I was going to try my best to make it. When Gumball's nanny came, I hauled ass, and made it to therapy with seconds to spare. Not enough time to go to the bathroom, which I hadn't done all day in my panicked state, but at least I didn't have to run to the building. And the therapist had left. I called, and expressed my frustration. But now I don't want to return to her. And the other NPs in the area are all not accepting new clients. I called my PCP for a referral, and we'll see how that goes. Honestly, I think time is the only thing that is going to make me feel better.
I hate that I tend to write when I am feeling low. It paints an unrealistic picture of how I am feeling. I have happy moments. Happy days even. I feel highs and laugh sometimes. Not a lot. Honestly, I have forced every laugh in the past year. Gumball doesn't laugh much either, which is probably my fault. I don't feel like laughing. Especially not today.
Gumball's dad became a father again, to twin daughters, yesterday.
I knew his she-who-shall-not-be-named was pregnant. I knew she was pregnant with twins. I did not expect him to use the name he wanted to give Gumball on his new daughter. I did not expect to see photos of their happy family posted all across my facebook page, from Gumball's great aunt and grandmother. I didn't expect to feel anything.
I felt horrible. So, for the first time in a year, I contacted R. I have joked, maybe even here, that I haven't responded to his texts bc I only text friends (I like to add that email is reserved for my enemies.) I couldn't help myself. I wrote him all the bitterness and hate in my heart. I am embarrassed to write what I said. It was offensive and awful. I am not a mean person. It made my stomach twist to write it. I reminded him of what his life will now hold: no chance to finish college, long, boring trucking jobs, and a partner who doesn't just have another man's name tattooed on her back, she has "property of XXX." I reminded him of these things and threw in some choice names. I called him a worthless, lazy, dimwit. He responded. Twice. Once yesterday. He said "magnanimous." It was one of the first compliments he gave me. I knew the hidden message. He misses me, he misses us. Then today he said, "Everything you said is absolutely correct. I'm definitely not good enough for you, but I want you to know that I love you and I miss you a lot."
One day after his twin girls were born.
Dirtbag.
Of course it didn't give me any pleasure. Well, no, it did give me some pleasure. Like biting a canker sore or peeling a sunburn.
God it is true. I miss him every single day. The only way I am able to move forward is to tell myself that he is dead. If it wasn't for Gumball, I would have begged him to come back. I truly believe this POS (piece of shit) is my soulmate. We had some wonderful times together. He challenged me and taught me so much, and our life together could have been wonderful. I really grieve for me, and this loss. The thing that makes it worse is that my choices will someday impact my sweet girl. For her sake, I will never, ever take him back. I pity his children, all five of them. I tried to save his boys, and Gumball will hopefully never know a father who could abandon her and never once ask about her.
That keeps me strong too. I will not take him back bc he never asked about our daughter, never once.
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