Bloody Fucking Emotions

It's been a bloody weekend, y'all.
I don't know when or why it started to happen this weekend, but my strength just... crumbled.

I've been trying to write about Bug in a more coherent way, without revealing too much, because who really wants to read all about that? This weekend, I watched as something I had building, working on with a new guy, fell to bits in one night. I drove with my best friend to basically America, almost died three times and had to deal with the panic attack I had for going into the hometown of the guy who knocked me up with Bug.

So much sleep wasn't had, and so many emotional girly feelings that I'm not used to...

I'm not a girly girl.

At all.

In case working nights in the ghetto, and my general personality online wasn't a clue, I'm more of a tomboy badass ninja than the tutu and giggly feelings kind of ninja.

Bug... the weight of what happened, the loss that has crippled me and wrapped itself up in a family death, as well as the realization my last ex was such a manipulator that he convinced me to do things and be a person I never thought I'd be.

So for the past week, I've watched Seasons One, Two and Three of Sons of Anarchy. I'm halfway through Four.

It really sucks working nights during times like this. All I have, is time to think. And remember. And remember what I was doing a year ago, on this day. How I'd be rubbing my stomach, and eating fruit and brown rice because that's the shit I was craving, and how I had secretly bought a onesie, even though my friends and family were worried I wouldn't get to keep him. I named him. I had a girl's name as a backup, but I was pretty fucking confident I'd be sprouting a penis from my vag.

I had a plan.

Rockstar wasn't really a plan in it, but... he could have been. Not as mine, because fuck that shit, whoops a baby broke off everything we had or didn't have going.

So much shit has happened, in the last three years.

I'm ready for some good to happen, and actually stick around. Not bolt at the first sign of fucking trouble.

It's gonna be a rough week, kids.  

A Warning Of Crazy Shit To Come (Seriously).

Alright.

I'm running away for the weekend, to go and play with my London family, because my best friend and her kids are there, and my two cousins who are more like siblings than cousins are there. So, don't expect greatness from me this weekend.

This is a warning, though.
I can feel it building up, and I wanted to offer my apologies for all the random rambly bullshit that is going to spew forth.

I'm trying to ignore it, and not dwell on it, but in 15 days the anniversary of my last miscarriage will be here.

It's already really hard to breathe.

So I've been writing. And writing, and yelling at Rockstar (what I nicknamed Bug's sperm donor before Bug was in the picture, and what has now turned into a really mean insult coming from me) and just, trying to let it go. Or move past, and pay more attention to the whores and shit going on here so I'd have something else to talk about.

This shit is consuming.

So some posts may start out as one thing, but turn into another, or I might finally write a huge thing about Bug. Because I believe writing is one of the most therapeutic things a person can do that doesn't cost money, or inflict danger on anyone else. I've used writing as a coping tool since I knew how to write.

So for the next few weeks, consider yourselves warned.
It could be a bumpy ride.