The ridiculousness of this.

Update:

March: Roof leak. Flood in hallway. Electric issues. Plumbing issues.
April: 18 year old cat, much loved even though I'm allergic, dies.
May: Well, yesterday found me starting my fourth abortion. FOUR. A doctor's appointment a week ago resulted in my discovering hypertyroid (so the pill wouldn't work. Same thing happened in 2003.) A wonderful friend dropped me off. And I just decided to walk home from the clinic. I cried a little.

A doesn't know. No fucking clue. He doesn't know I was physically and yes, semi-emotionally, miserable and cramping last night, and that while I could do the 2nd dose right now, I'm just going to wait 'til tomorrow when my mom is in town, and can pick up the kids so I can do it in peace (aka, by myself).

I'm crying right now. The walk home was good. I was just pissed at the world. I think I still am. WHY am I so fertile? Holy shit. I wish I could share it with others, some sort of magic osmosis.

Why won't you step up to the plate and get a vasectomy?

Why can't I tell you and know I'll be supported instead of grilled about whether I take the pill (because, you know, I absolutely have nothing better to do with $500).  Why can't I trust that we can be sad and yet relieved at the same time? That we can talk about it? I need that. I NEED to say, "I'm okay, but I'm not at the moment. And I know I will be okay, but right now, I'm cramping badly, no blood, and it fucking sucks.

Why can't we talk about this? Because you don't like to talk about things that are unpleasant or uncomfortable.

Why did mother's day have to suck because of this, knowing that I'm pregnant, going to have an abortion? Why was the due date MY BIRTHDAY?

Why, when things don't happen according to your neat, tidy and quite frankly, boring plan (we can't ever deviate from what's expected) do you freak out? E ordered a damn armoire off my ereader. I hadn't set up parental controls, so he didn't need to enter a password. You had been looking for one, and so put it in my cart. E was playing a game or listening to music, and two seconds later, I've got an email saying my order was placed. Said unwanted armoire was cancelled, but the seller is an ass and refuses to recall it. So it arrives this morning.

You constantly text me while I'm at work. I'M AT WORK AND DON'T NEED YOUR "COMING-DOWN-FROM-6-BEERS" ABUSE.  If I'm not answering your texts, it's for a reason. Dumbass.

But I'm really just angry at the universe. You are part of the universe, so I'm angry at you. I'm angry you never got over the guilt of your first major girlfriend having an abortion. OH, and since she and I are friends, she told me about the time waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in the early '00's when you read HER journal and wrote comments.

Dude, you have issues. I have issues too. But c'mon.

The irony when you said to me on the phone...."You never follow through with things."

Oh, dear. Really?

And "there's a reason why I don't have people over." Apparently, that reason is me. I call bullshit. I say the wrong things or offend people. Well, I'm sorry your friend is, politically, an ass. I am not going to put an apron and go to the kitchen while he spouts off about Rand (Ayn or Paul) being soooooooooooooooo good.  Generally, you don't bring up politics unless you're ready for a damn debate or you know you're in agreeable company. So when you come into MY house, and start saying SHIT about people who would call me a "baby killer" or try to slash C's benefits from SSI, then yes, I'm going to school them and yes, often that does involve me talking about philosophy because the SOCIAL CONSTRUCT is philosophy. And our nation was built on that idea.

Please quit complaining about this town, too, since you're not willing to move.

And yes, again, I've been quiet (busy) for long. And now that I'm in pain, wishing to get it over with completely, I'm just pissed. And your shitty attitude this morning is making me direct it at you. And no, I don't think ALL of this is undeserved.

I'm having an abortion. Let's not talk about it or the fact you could have prevented this--it's not all me.

I did tell my mom, though. And now you all know. I'm currently aborting, and it's not fun. And yes, I am a bit more moody today, and I'm going to blame the hormones. I don't regret it. I am sad, though, that I can't tell A and know I'll get support of any type down the line.

And...I can't think much more than this right now. I just...I mean, the ridiculousness of this.