I'm having an abortion

Today I finally made a decision about this pregnancy. I spent all morning looking for a homeless shelter and none of them had space. How can I bring a child into this mess? I did some research and found a few abortion funds that can help. I'm hoping using more than one will enable me to pay for this abortion.

In a few weeks, my life will be different. I'll be in a different city, trying to adjust to life. My kids will be in new schools. And I'll no longer be pregnant. I got my world rocked by morning sickness today. Another 3-4 months of that is not fun. Plus any bed rest I may have to go on like I did with my others. I have to figure out what to tell my children. Someone felt the need to tell my children that I was pregnant and ask them how they felt about a new brother or sister. My kids have been so psyched about a new baby. How do you tell your kids that a baby isn't going to be born?

Fear and loathing

I'm disgusted with myself right now. I'm seriously considering an abortion, and I'm in the process of losing a friend. My life is too complicated for another child, and why drag someone else into my mess? I have health and financial fears and just feel afraid in general. Afraid to lose this baby and afraid to have it. I don't know what to do, and I want to be proactive in any decision I make.

My friend is disgusted with me. I know "S" is fed up with what appears to be my rationalization of my childhood and my passivity. Before calling, I was resolved not to talk about my life or my viewpoints with "S". It never leads anywhere nice. My friends gets flustered and upset and so do I...I just want the easy conversations we had in the beginning. I want that easiness back. I hate talking about my fucked up life and my fucked up way of doing things. Why can't we talk about cupcakes or some shit? I just think if we stop focusing on any of my shit, things will get better. I just wish my friend could take me as I am, move past my way of seeing things, and be ok with my life being off limits...Talking about my fucked up life has driven a wedge between us. I hate that. I just wish things could go back to the way they used to be.


*"Free image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net"

Real rape

I had decided to stay out of the rape debate currently happening because I have an actual personal stake in it. Anything that triggers me to go batshit crazy and takes me back to that hopeless feeling is to be avoided at any cost. Except now. I get steamed when people feel the need to distinguish between rape, real rape and rape rape. What the fuck is "rape rape". Is it like "sex sex"? Seriously people, grow the fuck up.

It stings a little when people try to speak on behalf of rape victims, and presume to know what they want most. Especially if they've never been through it themselves. My heart goes out to those who've gone through rape, especially those who conceive as a result. I've been there and everyday I look at my child who looks so much like the rapist who helped make him. Friends and family played the it's not "real rape" game with me, and told me to get over it.

Everyday during that pregnancy I felt like I was imprisoned in a cell made of flesh. The only way I got through it was with a lot of denial and dissociation. So for people to actually play this game of semantics gets me hot under the collar. Bravo Donors For Boners for taking on this issue. And for the record, garlic makes vaginas cry too (read the post, it makes sense)!

Great expectations

I'm pregnant. There's really no reason to talk around that, so I'll just put that out there. I've known for about two weeks. The baby's father could be any of the 4 men I slept with that week, although 3 seem likelier. I got horny, I fucked, enjoyed it and this is the result. Since I have a lot of unprotected sex, this was inevitable and I'm coping well with it.

The last few weeks were spent trying to decide whether or not to carry to term. No matter what I chose, there would be someone who would have a reason for my decision being wrong. There were so many variables that went into my choice. How would I cope with another child? What about my other children? Can I afford this? One of my friends with benefits knows, so I took his feelings into consideration too. Then I chose to carry to term.

There were a lot of things I had to consider. My financial situation is very unstable at the moment and I'm moving soon. Two of my children have developmental concerns, and it's only been two years since the birth of my last. I'll be on my own with this baby, just like the others. And this will make "baby daddy" #4. I never wanted to be that girl.

Growing up, I knew that I would be a mother someday. All my children would have the same father: One man who wanted to be involved in their lives and loved them with all his heart. I knew firsthand how much it hurt to have a father who didn't want to deal with you, and I saw cousins who struggled and received no help from their multiple baby daddies. I was turned off by that, and was raised to be monogamous, and to find a good man who would love me and our children. How did I get so far from that?

  

I'm extremely promiscuous, and I know how that is judged by our society. I'm a fat black woman with multiple children by multiple men. I buy right into the Aunt Jemima/Mammy stereotype right there. Except for the sex part, so I guess I have a little Jezebel in me there. I could attribute some of this to past trauma, or I could accept total responsibility for how my life turned out. All I know to do is to take responsibility for my actions right now. There are people depending on me, including this baby. I need to make the best choices for this child, my current children and myself.

Adoption is an option right now. I just have to be brave enough to make that choice. Plus, who really wants a partially or fully black baby with an unknown father? The men I slept with were of different races and right after the other. This could go either way and I won't know anything until the birth.

Sex addiction as a form of self injury or harm

When you think of self-injury, you tend to think of emoish teen girls cutting themselves. Or maybe binging and purging. You never think sex. Sex is supposed to be about intimacy or bonding oneself to another person. Can you use sex to harm yourself? How can something that's supposed to feel good hurt so much?

I finally realized some things about myself. I use sex, especially unprotected sex that leads to multiple pregnancies. as a way to hurt myself. I feel better when I'm bogged down in another crisis pregnancy, or trying to decide what to do. It's an opportunity to care for myself and find attention. I can show myself the attention and caring I never received during my rapes or abuse at home.

There have been many times where I had sex to the point of pain. Then had more sex to further irritate myself. This week I had so much sex that it hurt to even sit down. I can masturbate for hours, even after my clitoris burns. The way that I have sex is in itself, very harmful.

Usually, I perform oral sex on a man, while minimizing his chances to touch me. Once he is hard (if he didn't arrive that way), I will get on all fours with my face touching the ground, and push my ass towards him. When he's in, I encourage my partner to act 'abusive'. I will tell him to call me names such as bitch, whore or slut. Another biggie is to make him pump me as hard as possible, even if it hurts. If the man hits me, I become very aroused. To just thoroughly abuse and misuse me during sex.

I've managed to restrain myself from asking to be held down or forced. I've really wanted to ask a man to force me to take his cock, but I'm scared of the reaction. Many guys might be scared they'll be accused of rape, or wonder about my mental state. But sometimes I want to. Instead I allow any man who looks good to lay on top of me, or push me up against a wall and pull my panties down. I even let some of them cum inside me.

Even though I want to avoid diseases and pregnancy, I feel better if I let them unload inside me. I feel degraded and like a true whore when a man's semen is running down my legs or pooling in my panties. Because of health issues, my choices of contraceptive are limited to polyurethane condoms or spermicidal. When I become hypomanic, I don't take care of my sexual health the way I should. It's easier to ignore it, or it doesn't come up. 

When I'm manic, it's like my mind is on fire, but I don't notice. I just flit from thing to thing, never lingering for long in one place. It's hard to remember birth control at those moments. My attention tends to be focused on my family and on really stupid shit. Many, though not all, of my pregnancies were conceived when I was either hypomanic or acting out sexually because of my addiction. Once I come down from that, I have to face the consequences of what I've done. I think I even conceived once while selling myself. Selling sex may be another way I abuse myself. Forcing myself to be with men for sex confirms how I feel about myself. I put on a brave face, but inside it's killing me.