Last night I had a dream…
It was depressing. I don’t share these feelings a lot, because you can look at my blog and life and fill in enough blanks to make sense of things.
If you’re not in for sadness today, you can flee without guilt. Which is also why this post isn’t being shared on Facebook, because everyone there thinks I’m a giant ball of happy all the time, and breaking that image even the tiniest bit results in my having to comfort others when I’m the one that’s blue. Twitter gets the post because it’s a far bigger sea and I can be more real there.
Back to the beginning. Last night I had a dream…
We were moving into a house and I was pregnant. Big-bellied pregnant and happy. A stranger asked me when my due date was and I didn’t know. My belly shrank. Someone else asked me what the ultrasound looked like – I panicked because I never had an ultrasound. My belly shrank further. Someone asked to feel it kick. But there was no kick, and my belly shrank.
The questions kept coming and my stomach shrank to normal size and I realized I was never pregnant to begin with. And the last person called me “a fraud of a woman.”
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Yeah. Ooof, right? I think I’m going to be extra kind to myself for the next few days.