Insomniac Anonymous

I didn't go to sleep until after 4 am last night/this morning. I got into bed at 9 pm. That means that I spent 7 hours in sleepless turmoil. Fretting and sweating over all of the things that I have to do and don't think that I can ever accomplish.

Well, there is some truth to that. I can't accomplish them if I don't freaking sleep. Now can I?

Aside from the usual things that come up for me in these sporadic nights of insomnia (i.e. homework, chores, errands, shaving my legs), some interesting things surfaced last night.

Apparently, the whole notion that women go baby crazy in their mid twenties is 100% legit. Not to mention when they have a toddler or are in a new relationship. What'd ya know, I am suffering from all three of these hormone inducing lifestyle "choices"!


I know that plenty of you are probably like wtf missy, you already have one kid and you are only 25! You have a shit ton of time before you worry about this. Well, that would be true if you were talking about anyone but me. I am the most efficient worrier known to man. I worry about things years in advance. It makes it much easier for me to be in a constant state of heightened panic about how things may or may not go horribly wrong. It also keeps me hyper-vigilant of potential pit falls.

For instance, that my current boyfriend has been fixed. And that I really don't see any other potential pit fall between us... Now, that will keep you up at night.


I am partially proud and partially mortified that I actually brought this concern up to him this morning. Also, my apologies sweetheart for bringing you into this so frequently of late... I promise, there is a point here.

It served as further "evidence" of his and my powers of communication. Even in our mutual states of exhaustion and distraction, we were able to discuss this potentially traumatic topic.

I will admit that I was slightly passive in my raising the topic. I didn't really want to go there at 8:43am when he was just arriving at work and I was barely what could be called conscious. However, I was bordering on the idea of shutting my phone off until we went on a trip with the kids this weekend to process it on my own. This is typically a warning sign that I am feeling internally threatened and terrified... So, I should probably just rip the damn band aid off and not delay the inevitable. Not to mention make him panicked and unreceptive in my unexplained absence.

I did the mature thing and rambled off a list of things that had kept me up all night and "discreetly" tucked the "and I am terrified that I will never get married n have children" in there. Ha! Anybody who reads that and doesn't recognize that it needs to be discussed would be a complete moron and, coincidentally, one of my ex boyfriends.

To which he awed and dazzled me by sending a very poetic response about how wonderful I am in a million different ways... but that he couldn't help me when it came to kids. I knew that I was in for a penny, in for a pound at this point and decided to hit the fuck it button "You're very sweet... but I want kids... sigh".

May the unnamed higher power bless him for his patience.

We then went through the paces where I explained my position and he explained his. He got defensive for a hot second and so did I. Then, in some magical mind ninja moment.... I realized where he was coming from and that it had absolutely no bearing on what a life would be like with me. Just as I have continually had to realize over and over again that any of my prior learning when it comes to men is irrelevant with him. He must recognize that the same is true when it comes to me and other women. Then, we both got a little bit of closure and the topic was closed for the next ohhhh I don't know... month to three months depending on how busy I am and how many nights I lose sleep.


Now, to the real point(s) here.

1) Secondary gains.
2) Mommy issues.

When I was in my disorder and smoking and dating assholes... Well, this conversation would have never occurred. What would have occurred?

Simply put? I would have bit my tongue for the next three months, treated my body and my boyfriend like shit, and eventually blown up at him for not understanding me after he found me throwing up and stoned out of my mind.

Essentially, it isn't pretty.

The way that I used to deal with things like this was that I didn't.

My eating disorder served the secondary gain of helping me to keep these things bottled up inside of me. Of keeping me from saying the things that I was sure would send my "loved ones" running to the hills. Of helping me to stay so out of my mind that I was truly and completely incapable of remembering for very long just what I was upset about. It would resurface over and over again. Every time that it did, I would turn to my disorder or a bowl to help me repress and deny it back down into the inky depths of my mind.

That obviously worked just honky dory in the short term. In the long term?

It was a god damned shit show.


I ended up staying in a relationshit that was 100% built on our own presumptions and 0% on communication.  I stayed because I didn't allow myself to have the discussions that would force me to leave or to overtly accept the things that he did.  I wasn't strong enough for that. This leads back into my last post which centered around having the ability to be who you are and saying fuck all to the people who didn't like it. Or, more precisely, in fostering the kind of person you want to be and allowing the people that have a problem with it to go.

Now, I have no interest in the short term. I am interested in the big picture. I know most of what I want out of life and I am quickly figuring out the rest. I have no desire to suppress any of the things that I have decided are important to me. I will do it the right way or not at all.

Even if that is the hard way.

Alright, now... On to the hard part. The mommy issues. Oof.

My mother was not exactly the greatest mother. I have been over this a few times. She tried really hard when we were young; but, then she just disappeared. As a result, I wrestled with the idea of motherhood for a very long time.

I went through phases.

I was terrified that I would make the same mistakes and was determined to never have children and instead focus on a career.

I was angry and thought that I could be a good mother but was terrified that I would make the same mistakes and decided that I should just have a career.

I was depressed and decided that I never wanted a child to feel that kind of pain at the loss of their mother so I decided that I should never have one. Seeing as I was terrified and should just have a career.

I spent a good part of my 5 weeks in treatment discussing my mommy issues and what it meant to me. It's a good thing because I got pregnant right after I left.

I was hormonal and terrified and didn't have a career and didn't want the baby to hate me.

I got post-partum and my baby daddy left me high and dry because he couldn't make the changes that I was bound and determined to make in an effort to prove that I could be a responsible mother and that my baby wouldn't hate me.

This inevitably lead to me having to get a job and remaining terrified and distant from my baby who looked like her asshole father's clone. Something that breaks my heart every day. Not that she looks like him. Just that I allowed that to get in the way of my holding her sometimes.

During her first year or two of life, I promised myself that it would be different the next time. That I would be in a good place and with a good man and that I would be able to be the kind of mother that I knew I was capable of being. 

Then, I hit this place when she was about two or so that I decided I didn't have it in me. That I just wasn't meant for that. That I should just be a career woman and do my best to focus on my daughter. That I would put my all into providing for her and raising her and then have my 40s and on to myself.

I convinced myself that I was selfish.... For less than a year.

Having such a difficult time with motherhood has sort of made it my deep wound in life. It has made it something that I will struggle with until I feel that I have done it right. I don't know if that means having another child or being able to adopt or simply being able to be the mother I want to be for the rest of my daughter's life.... No idea.

I just know that I still have not achieved peace in this.

I will always seek peace.