These two months should be full of happiness for me. March is my birthday and Petit Boy’s birthday is in April, but my past haunts me still and every year I find it too hard to cope and end up very low and having to force myself to do basic stuff that any normal person who easily do, which of course makes it worse because I think I’m weak because everyone else can easily get up and do the washing and yet I can’t. Nasty cycle that I often get trapped in.
March is my birthday, a day you celebrate with friends and family in whatever way you like. But for me my birthday is the beginning of what will be so life changing. It was my 17th birthday and I was sitting in the doctor’s office. I had given a urine sample and was now waiting results. It was positive. I was pregnant. Not just pregnant at the age of 17 but pregnant in a relationship that was far from loving and everlasting at the age of 17. We acted as if everything was normal, we even organised driving lessons just a few hours after finding out that I was pregnant. I remember looking at my mom’s face and my dad didn’t seem to react to it. I felt like I had failed them and the only way out of this mess wasn’t something I really wanted to do.
April came and I was in hospital. I signed the forms to agree with the abortion and then given the medication to begin to process. Due to how small I was (my BMI was low) the doctor told me he would have to give me a “child size portion”. Can you imagine a child size portion of something that is used to bring up early labour? I felt cold. I told myself this was right… wasn’t it?
Next day I was back in and stayed overnight for it to all happen. I won’t go into details but it was awful. The discomfort, the ward, the silence, everything about that day is fresh even now after nearly 11 years. I then found out about my blood type and what would happen if I wanted children in the future. I just about remember leaving the hospital, but I was so numb I don’t really remember how I got from the hospital to home. And April didn’t stop there, my boyfriend got more violent, he called me murderer and continued to do whatever he liked to me. I remember hiding from him one day and finally telling him I don’t want to be with him anymore. He lashed out with scissors and from then on he started stalking me.
So that is why March and April suck for me, two months I should enjoy yet I can’t seem to let it all go and move on with my life. I can’t seem to move on and I can’t seem to find any help other than talking to my fiancé about all this. So here I am, writing this on my blog in the hope maybe it’ll help me just a little bit. But then again maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe this will do the opposite to what I want. I guess I’m just trying to think positive for once and not let depression take complete control of me.