Not that anyone will ever read this, but just in case, I have no intentions of acting on these thoughts. I just need to say them out loud to get them out of my brain.
I had a reduction done in 2010. Since then I cannot produce enough milk to support a baby, nor does it flow fast enough for them to nurse first then take a bottle. It literally takes an hour every 3-4 hours of pumping to extract it all. And even then it's not enough.
I have serious body image issues and eat my feelings. Eating when tired and depressed has turned this into a serious carb addiction, and I mean that addiction literally. When I eat them it's like an addict binging on drugs or alcohol to the point of overdose.
These two things lead to me hating myself a lot. Hating myself leads to me eating my feelings, which leads to weight gain, which leads to me hating myself more... well, you get the idea.
In April of 2019 I started a keto diet and before I got pregnant had lost 80lbs. I finally liked myself. I could finally look in the mirror without disgust.
During my pregnancy I was very very cautious about how much weight I gained because I didn't want to undo all of that work. I was 265lbs when I started the diet, and 189lbs when I got pregnant. I only gained 25lbs during my pregnancy and all but 5lbs was gone by 2 weeks postpartum. Unfortunately because of exhaustion I gave into my carb craving and have spiraled out of control over the last several weeks. This and pumping just enough to not get mastitis while I waited for my milk to dry up lead to a lot more self loathing. But it also lead to some very dark thoughts. I just need them out so I can let them go.
Many nights when I woke to painful engorged breasts I thought about cutting them off as they were worthless. During moments of sorrow that I couldn't nurse my rooting baby I imagined stabbing knives into them over and over again. Looking down at my flabby belly, once my uterus had shrank, and feeling the new layer of fat on my stomach that wasn't there before baby made me so angry I wanted to hit it. To hit myself, to pummel the part of me that feels disgusting and worthless.
I just need to get these out. To speak the words. But no one will listen.
Bow I just want to feel my sorrow in peace, no children interrupting every few moments with petty squabbles, minor "injuries" or demands to be fed, changed, watered, ect. I just need SOME TIME I can be left alone and not touch for awhile. But that will never happen. So I'm here, writing this in hopes that giving flight to this pain will make the burden lighter.
