Mother's Day Has Been An Interesting Time Each Year Since My Abortion. I'm In My 30s, So People Often

Mother's Day has been an interesting time each year since my abortion. I'm in my 30s, so people often wish me Happy Mother's Day.

This year it didn't hurt.

Reminder to any of you out there facing a difficult decision: sadness and regret are not the same thing.

Sad Things.

I found a list of names. If things had been different and I had a girl, we would have called her Alice.

About a year ago he stopped texting me, after months of one-sided harassment.

Today I am all fucked up about it.    Today I am stressed and restless and hurt and angry and sad and mourning my past and what I thought I had.

And I don’t know how to explain any of it.  

I have the luxury of having a bit of massage coverage through work.  I take advantage of it as my body is not what it used to be after the years of abuse (ie, ballet, running, neglect and self hatred) I’ve put it through.

I did not expect to have a sensory flashback from my RMT working on my rotator cuffs. She said emotions can be stored in our muscles and tissues and that having them treated can cause those emotions to be release.

I was glad she gave me this out.  Because I wasn’t too interested in telling her the actual reason I was bawling.

It's a little embarrassing. For a long time I thought I'd be touch repulsed forever. I thought i didn't like or deserve hugs and people touching me felt like a threat. Like a bomb would go off if there was contact for too long. Like my skin was burning.

Turns out that I love to be touched and hugged by the right person and I am so severely affection starved that I find it difficult to sit near her without being in contact somehow.

My only saving grace is that she is a very affectionate person by nature. Otherwise I'm sure she'd find me clingy.

I have prided myself on my independence these past few years. Relished in my solitude.

It is a scary thing to feel as though you might need someone again.

There are nights when I'm lying in bed next to her, where I'm safe and cozy and I should be happy.

But I'm not. I'm restless. I'm angry without purpose. I'm stressed. I'm sad.

She brings me so much joy, but he steals it.

I can’t sleep tonight

Having no other adult experience with an actual relationship outside of him, I have fears.

I feel like I’m allowed to be human with her.  I’m comfortable blowing my nose and flossing in her presence.  That doesn’t sound like much, but it’s progress.

More than anything I feel animated, like, alive.  I can laugh loud and silly, and be excited about trivial things; I can take long, windy routes to tell stories, and forget what I was saying mid sentence.  None of this phases her.  I’m not an annoyance.  I’m not wasting her time.

Did I ever feel this way with him?  I must have.  I remember being willing to take a bullet for him.  Does that mean this is all going to fade too? 

I worry I’m going to turn into that hallow, emotionless shell again.  And that it had nothing to do with him always cutting me down, and everything to do with me just being soulless and horrible.

Maybe all this love stuff is short lived and fleeting for me, and my rotten insides will cause me to hurt her as well.