not pregnant and yet continuing to gain weight DESPITE coming off fat inducing drugs in order to get pregnant. and therefore fat. but with a purpose. and an end date. an excuse for being fat.
see, i was pregnant. so i came off my meds. then i had to go straighten some things out with work and negotiate my new contract. but because i was pregnant and this would be the year that P was from 3 days of pre school to 5 days of big school, i thought i didn't want to be away from home so much. didn't want to be a hundred miles away and missing breakfast and dinner with her and especially didn't want to be travelling all those hours as the pregnancy advanced. so i gave up my job. my job that was half our household income. and a huge part of my identity. and my independence. and then i wasn't pregnant anymore. and then i went back on my meds. and then i came off them again because if i was goingto have another baby then sooner was infinitely better than later because i'm getting nearer to 40 and because the sooner i get pregnant, the sooner i won't be pregnant anymore and will able to take my meds again. and will be able to participate in the world. and go out of the house. if there are ever any clothes to fit me. i didn't get my period on monday, which should have meant baby in january, meds by february. which is good, right? because february is always hard. but sore boobs and tearyness at game shows didn't mean baby. it meant my period was two days late. that's all.
smog and mirrors
truth will out. i used to be someone who people went to. professional people. to write for a big name newspaper. to run a national campaign. or advise on national strategy. or prepare people with grand titles for media entanglements. i used to know more about whatever was going on than anyone else in the room. i was a go-see person. a fly round the world to help a project person. now i count as successful a day where i manage to get P to pre school before nine (without necessarily washing my face or changing entirely out of my pyjamas) walk the dog, put on a load of laundry and take something out of the freezer for dinner before fetching her again at 5. i would always worry about living up to my reputation. i had periods within those years of sought-out-ness when i would fold. be defeated by chemistry. but this feels different. I've come to the end of the road with that life. I haven't worked for six months. don't feel anywhere near capable of doing so again. no more earning of the big bucks for me. or any bucks for that matter.
everything feels sharp and hard and startling. clashing of plates as they come out of the dishwasher. screeching child. raised voices on the radio. a car door inadvertently slammed. each sound jarring, pushing me further away.
