Therapy.

We got married.  It was everything I wanted and more; our tiny honeymoon in NY and our week to relax here were amazing.  The Dog was happy to see us, all was well.
And now I’m trying to figure out how in the hell I can grow up enough to have kids.
I’m not sure it can happen.  I feel like I should have a kid–I feel like it’s something that I want–but I’m not mature enough.  I’m mentally 21.  I don’t feel ready, and not in a “No parent is ready” kind of way.  In a “I haven’t grown up enough” way.  I am selfish, I am childish, I am anxious.  I am depressed.  The thought of being pregnant, of gaining weight, is horrifying to my eating disorder.  The idea of exams, of having a baby going through my private area, of how it will be afterward, makes me want to crawl in a hole.  I’ve only recently begun to stop crying at GYN exams.

How will this ever be possible?  How would I stay sane?  How much therapy am I going to need, and by then will it be too late?

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One thought on “Therapy.

  1. Oh, honey my heart breaks for you. My BFF had to struggle with her eating disorder throughout her pregnancy, and while I can’t say that I understand how it feels, I am aware of the difficulties your might face. Hang in there. I’ve got a shoulder with your name on it.

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