You do not know me but you sleep beside me every night.
I wanted to say that I’m sorry.
I have not been myself lately.
I am so much not myself that I want to tear off my own skin and run from the she-devil that encases me.
I feel like someone has stolen my brain and replaced it with a giant asshole.
But I’m having a hard time talking to you about it.
Because I am used to being self-sufficient and driven and powerful…
…so this change in my mental state is terrifying.
I like to think I can manage my emotions better. I am usually only a grumpy bitch once a month or so- but this flux is above anything I have ever experienced and I literally wonder sometimes if I am loosing my mind.
Because I have thoughts like “will my baby be a rapist?” “is my life over” and “maybe it’s already dead.”
I am used to being in control- of my finances, of my career, of my sleep schedule- and it is slowly dawning on me that this freedom we have is leaving…
I need you right now. Completely. To make me cash. To keep me housed. To feed us.
And that is fucking horrifying to me. That is against everything I have learned. Everything I have worked my entire life for.
So I lash out.
I am trying to claw onto some semblance of normalcy when the truth is that my life will never be the same again. My body will never be the same again. My free-will will never be the same again and it’s breaking my heart to realize this.
So I am bossy.
I blame you.
I am mean.
And I don’t talk to you for the entire day because you say my face looks “milky.”
You are the only place in the world right now where I feel safe enough to let this part of me be.
So thank you.
Thank you for taking my shit.
Thank you for trying to know that this is not about you.
Thank you for forgiving me even when I don’t notice I have hurt you.
Thank you for understanding that I thought this was supposed to be the best part of my life and now I think it is one of the worst parts and I feel guilty and ashamed about that.
Thank you for loving me and cuddling even though I don’t want to have sex right now.
Thank you for noticing that I want a salty treat before I notice.
Thank you for being my punching bag.
No one else in the world will do it and it has to get done.
Because I am a baby-making monster who is out hunting for blood to turn into milk.
And I will poke you with knitting needles in every hole you have if you ever repeat this but…
You are better than me right now.
You are the animal who is holding this down.
You are the boss.
I have never needed anyone like I need you and it is scaring me into a great ball of fury.
I hope it gets better soon and I’ll buy you a big gift when I feel up to it.
But right now can you put on some Mad Men and pass me the chips.
And even though I am too porridge head to say it sexy like I used to…
I love you with everything I have.
You are getting me through.
Ps. Saying someone’s face is “milky” is not a compliment.