I went to my first counselor appointment today.  And let me just say, the need to write all this out is stronger than I’ve ever experienced.  I knew that the first appointment would be to gather a glimpse at some of my history, figure out where I am at and come up with a plan for treatment moving forward.  The appointment was supposed to last 45 minutes.  It went for a full hour and a half.  You know when a counselor exclaims “Wow you have such a rich history”… it must mean you are really screwed up.  LOL.  I don’t think I’ve ever had to throw it all out there like that in a timeline.  It was a bit of a shock to my system when I did and realized just how much I have been through, how much there was to screw me up.  No wonder I don’t feel my age.

Age 17 – hospitalized for depression
Age 19 – Got married to highschool sweetheart
Age 20 – Had a baby/ Experienced physical and emotional abuse first hand
Age 20 – Got divorced – Very messy, very scary time of my life full of restraining orders and such
Age 21 – Met a man with a son a little older than my own child
Age 22 – Got married / returned to school
Age 23 – Started my business
Age 24 – Diagnosed with major health issue – caused myself harm due to depression
Age 26 – Started working corporate
Age 27 – Got pregnant with Ben – had ben – lost ben/ watched family break apart
Age 28 – Started working for Microsoft/Pregnant with my little one/Miracle baby!
Age 29 – surgery to make it extremely unlikely to have more children
Age 30 – Divorce
Age 31 – Back to the world of dating (Ew)
Age 32 – Facing a potential miscarriage

Yup.  You read that last one right.  My chances were less than 3% to get pregnant again.  And here I sit, grieving for another little one… or at least what was the potential of a little one.  I feel like this one – it’s all my fault.  I got so stressed out this week.  Had I just found a way to settle and stay calm perhaps the results would not be this way?  I know that everything happens for a reason… I know that now was just not when I’d planned on getting pregnant – hell I never planned on getting pregnant again.  But what I didn’t know – was how much I wanted it, until “There is no heartbeat, I’m sorry.” came out of the doctor’s mouth.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t think.  I’m still reeling.  And now, I’m just waiting.  Waiting for my body to realize what’s happened and catch up.  I’m shaken up.  I’m scared.  Scared to lose T.  But I think more than anything else.  I’m scared to lose ME.  I’ve done so well in the last few years.  Worked through so much.  Seeing a counselor was long overdue.  But seeing her also made me see just how screwed up my life has been.  It made me realize just how scared I am.  How well I do at putting on my masks and posturing around how strong I am.  I’m not strong… I’m just too prideful to let anyone see me break, even myself.  I’m scared that everyone and everything I love will leave or walk away or be taken away.  I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved… that loving me would somehow cause others to be burdened by me.  Oy.  What a thing to realize.  What a thing to try and overcome.  But damn it… that’s my goal.  I’m going to beat this.  This low self esteem bull shit.  I’m going to prove to myself that I am worthy.  Ok, fine, i’m young.  I’ve had it hard.  But so have a LOT of people.  I’m not special.  I’m simply human.  And it means we keep swimming.  Even when we forget how to breathe.  I WILL conquer this.  Why?  Because I can.  Because I believe in my ability to learn and grow.  Because I want it that badly.

Thank god for stubbornness.