The heavy burden

I'm willing to bet that most people find me to be an upbeat person.

I love my friends openly, even if/when I don't agree with their life choices.

I try to make others happy.

I do "random acts of kindness" like straightening the shopping cart corral in the parking lot, wiping down the public bathroom counters/pick up trash and dispose of it properly. I smile and wave at random strangers to get them to smile.

I try to put on a good face most of the time and try to leave behind any place better than I found it (boy scout mindset kind of).

Despite all of these things, I am a very unhappy person.

I'm very pessimistic, judgemental, bitter, and angry.

I often participate in my "random acts of kindness" because I think and feel that other people just don't care.

I get frustrated when I see shopping carts not properly corralled, thinking that whomever left it "there" doesn't give a crap about being nice to others or value the time/effort it takes for the store employee to wrangle it later.
I feel angry that the bathroom counter/floor are soaked/covered in random bits and pieces of paper towels/toilet paper. I commonly think and believe that people leave it this way because they feel it is below them to clean it up even if they caused a part of it. I commonly think that these person's respect and care of public facilities mirrors their respect and care for other people in the world.
I think and feel that everyone else passing the stranger by, and choosing to not notice them, even subconsciously, is a declaration of their love for their fellow man (or rather, their lack thereof).

I'm judgemental of my children for constant disobedience even though I've been taught that what they are doing is typical boundary pushing/normal behavior for children their age. I often feel that my children don't respect my rules/authority because it is not commonly taught/expected by others to do so. This angers me, and is a constant pulse of doubt about my worth/influence as a mother.

I commonly feel bitter when something I've told another person gets forgotten.
I've noticed over the years that I tell people less and less things. When I do speak up, I am typically very deliberate in what I say, and how I say it. When these things are not remembered/retained and I later mention it to continue the conversation, or accomplish something beyond the subject, I am disheartened. It makes me feel/believe that what I think/say/feel/do is of little to no value to the other person. It is a very isolating emotion. It often results in me never mentioning it again as it feels pointless to do so.

I feel discouraged when I see anything that I have done/cleaned/improved/worked on gets destroyed/soiled/disorganized/forgotten about. This happens even from my own doing: unfinished projects, laundry, accidentally broken items, etc.
When I perceive that I am the cause of my own discouragement it makes me doubt myself, and others, even more greatly. I feel in those moments that I believe, even more so, that progression is not likely/possible and that positive change in others is a pointless pursuit.

I have very little hope.

My counselor suggested that I make a "hope box" full of little pieces of paper with things written on them that I am looking forward to/hopeful about that have a realistic possibility of happening/can be influenced by me. Things that I can feel joyful about.
I was given that assignment over a month ago. I've only been able to come up with 3 things. Each has a possibility of being joyful. However, each comes with a realistic possibility of being stressful and unachievable.
Those possibilities terrify me.
It hasn't provided much hope.

Despite my inner thoughts and emotions, and the general tumult and anxiety they cause me, I put on a good face to most of the world.
I offer help to others. I counsel/talk to my friends as time allows me to (so long as my emotions aren't controlling my rationality or ability to be kind/uplifting toward them). I go to church. I cook. I clean. I hug my girls. I try to establish a normal/healthy pattern of living.

My compromised perspective is that I fail most of the time.

This is my heavy burden.

May 20, 2016

So I had a scary evening yesterday...
Jay, the girls, and I all went out to eat together. When I was almost done eating I got hit with a super strong contraction/lower abdominal cramping (felt like I needed to poop).

I excused myself from the table to go use the restroom, getting quite dizzy on my first 10 steps away from the table, but regaining full stamina almost immediately.

I went to the restroom and peed. I still felt the need to poop, but it didn't happen. I remember feeling sweaty all of a sudden and looked down at my insulin pump screen to see if my glucose was suddenly dropping.

I then had a short dream, and came to (after losing consciousness) with my head stuck in the corner of the bathroom walls, but still seated on the toilet.

I realized immediately that I had passed out. I was in a full body sweat at this point (no low blood sugar, by the way).

I re-gained my bearings, washed my hands, and went out of the bathroom (both Autumn and Tori were outside the door waiting to use it, in line behind another young girl).

I walked back to the table with both girls. Once I sat down I told Jay what had happened and that I needed him to take the girls to the restroom while I sat and regained my composure.

Almost instantly after he and the girls left from the table I got hit with another intense contraction and laid down on the bench to help reduce the pain.

The next think I knew/heard was my cute little Asian waitress saying "Are you OK? Are you OK?"

I responded, and slowly sat back up. I told her I had just passed out and that my husband/kids were in the bathroom, I was 28 weeks pregnant, and needed to go to the hospital.

She immediately alerted the staff, informed Jay, and had another gentleman employee (ironically named Charlie) assist her and Jay walk me out to the car.

I called emergency L&D on the way to the hospital to inform them we were coming, etc.

Once at the hospital I did not pass out again. They checked my cervix, did a swab for risk of pre-term labor, a CMP (complete metabolic panel), and urine analysis.

I also threw up there and had diarrhea.

My contractions were every 2-3 minutes upon arrival.

However, after a full bag of fluids, a Zofran (anti-nausea) bolus, and resting for a little over 3 hours the contractions almost completely stopped.

Charlie's heart rate/movement was/is normal. She wasn't stressing at all.

They released me at about 12:45am this morning.

I've been taking it very easy today, and drinking lots of water. But this virus I'm fighting, the GI (gastroenteritis) bug, and dehydration are probably the main cause of last night's scare.

I will not be doing the flea market garage sale tomorrow (Idaho's Largest Garage Sale) and will do my best to keep my activities to a bare minimum to allow myself the rest my body so desperately needs to heal.

I just figured I'd let you all know what's happening in my world... crazy scary stuff.