The pregnancy. Seriously. I’m over it.
Yesterday was Hormones-from-Hell day. Weepy all day, picked a fight with my mom on the phone, then had a giant bedtime fight with GB. I’m fairly sure I haven’t cried myself to sleep since I was 14.
I’m just over it. The fucking hormones, the not being on my antidepressant, the unstable emotions that GB does not understand and has very little sympathy for. The insomnia, the bad dreams, the constant worry. It fucking sucks.
I’m thinking that maybe I’ll feel better when I start feeling the baby move (which, really, should be pretty soon). Because right now, none of it feels especially real, and I feel stuck in this physical discomfort and emotional misery for no good reason at all.
(On the brighter side, I woke up at 6:45 this morning–after waking every 2 hours, of course–and started reorganizing this chapter outline. So at least I’m acting like I’m productive. Though, I have been including footnotes in my word count–some of them are pretty lengthy. But really, did we decide that counts? Because what about the footnotes that are just citations (yes, there are one or two of those)? I don’t want to *not* count the long footnotes, but I also don’t want to make it look like I’ve done more writing than I have…)
Whatever. I know–another whine. This one may self-destruct, depending on how whiny I can stand to be.