If I could stab that voice

I would.

Viciously and the point to the that it'd make the Vikings damn proud of how fucking dead it is.

I can only imagine how much worse it'd be if I had gone on the pill and inevitably followed by anti-dep meds. (Fuck those by the way. How do people not fucking read or care of the reactivity between those two?!) 

So my mood for today is especially grey as after being awake until almost 4am when I was awakened around 5:30ish by cramps. *sigh* Night before hand, same amount of being awake. Let's just say I'm exceedingly grateful to DR for letting me sleep in the mornings. Means I start later in the day, but in terms of taking care of myself it's working. Me with little sleep is... very very bad.

But today I found myself dealing with that insidious little voice simpering inside my inner ear about why am I even trying to have kids? 

"You can't carry to full term why are you even fucking trying? You as a mom? Are you trying to kill yourself? You think you that much of a badass? We all know you can't be mom, you're fucking damaged goods."

Yeah... that voice. I've been dealing with it for close to ten years now since I made the decision I wanted to have that be a part of my life, being a mom. You wanna talk struggle? Let's talk about how many damn times I've had to console myself. How many damn times I've found myself wondering which God/dess I'm going to have to blackmail, cajole, bribe into leaving me alone so I can just be a mom.

The fucking struggle to deal with the terror that I'll never get that chance by normal means. That's a biggie to me. Even if I only give birth once, I'm going to be fucking grateful. Though I still want my clan of 4-8 I've kinda given up on getting that many and have been pushing for 3. 

Just.... stab stab stabbity. I mean  seriously?! There are so many little things I have worked on and keep working on to fill in the cracks of the foundations and just trying to finish the fucking foundation out that dealing with distractions like this fucking critic are purely frustration. And we all know frustration can't be expressed fully ever. It's not a simple emotion.  It's one of those emotions that you find yourself saddled with day in and day out sometimes depending on what the cause is.

I'd like to think I'm going to a decent mom. Hell, even with the decision to homeschool I've already been figuring out to use the most of mundane things to teach practical lessons. Like the other day, I pointed that cooking was a great way to teach basic chemistry and basic fractions. Probably one of the best ways to teach fractions. (Not to mention more tasty results.) So many things just to decide not to have kids. How dare you voice. How dare you.

A large part of this goes right into the Anxiety. Into the limited amount of "can do" in a day. When you're damn near constantly splitting time between this world, your mental world, the emotional baggage, the Witch world and creative because the creative is the means of turning the untamed chaos into something useful... the balancing act stops being an act...eventually right?