Hi. My name is Cathy or Cat depending on who you ask. As I write this it is currently 6:40 pm on a Friday evening on January 17, 2020. I sit here on my black leather sofa in my small one-bedroom apartment 7 ½ weeks pregnant and completely alone both physically and emotionally. I should be used to this feeling after 31 years of living but the feeling never seems to get easier with age and wisdom. Why am I sitting here this alone on a Friday night one might ask? The man I loved with all my heart and soul, the man I would have literally laid down and died for, the man who’s unborn baby I carry in my womb, the man who promised he loved me and would treat me right, the man who said I’d one day be his wife, the man, the man I planed my God damn life and future with walked out on me. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time this man has left me feeling this alone and desperate to be loved. This isn’t the second time, third time, or even the fourth time. Why do I continue to let someone who I love so deeply to treat me this way? Like most women I can only assume, I see his potential. Potential people. Potential is the scariest thing a person can ever see in someone they love. Potential is what causes us women to wear our love goggles so tightly screwed on. Potential is what blinds us and keeps us from using our god given talents of seeing bullshit and naturally protecting ourselves from shit like this. As I sit here, I ask myself the typical questions. How could he? How could he leave me pregnant? How could he leave so easily? Did he ever love me? Does he still love me? Was it all a lie? Was I just dumb enough to believe everything he ever told me? Years, what feel like wasted. Years, of losing myself. For what? For someone who never loved me. No matter what cruel words he said to me, no matter how many times he left, no how many times there was a outside woman I had to find out about, no matter how many times my heart literally crushed, I STILL LOVED HIM. I still wanted so badly to believe he loved me as I loved him. It’s going on 3 days with no contact with the one exception of him texting asking for his w-2. That’s it. His fucking w-2. Fuck you dude. I am so tired of being the bigger person. I am so tired of telling myself time heals all wounds. So tired of saying, he’ll get his karma eventually. So tired of saying, he’ll treat the next woman just the same. SO SICK OF IT! Time does not heal all wounds they just become scared. Karma doesn’t happen unless they realize they did something wrong to begin with. What if he doesn’t treat the next woman the same? What if he falls madly in love with her and they live happily ever after and he treats her in every way he promised he’d treat me? I would never date a man while he has the mother of his child alone and pregnant. I would never date a guy who in a relationship. I would never date a guy who just got out of a relationship 10 seconds ago! What the fuck is wrong with women now a days? What happened to women comradery? What happened to women lifting each other to up? What happened to not cause other women the same pain you as a woman experienced yourself? What the literal fuck! Have we as women become that desperate for a man’s love that we will do anything and everything to get it? Including destroying other women to get it? Don’t even start with the bullshit that she or those women don’t owe another woman loyalty her man does! That is very true, my man is the one who had the responsibility to keep his loyalty me, I get it okay! But at the end of the day us women are supposed to stick together. Us women have all experienced this pain. So why, knowingly be the cause of it? Have people lost all sense of morals, integrity, honesty? What the fuck people!
My depression it at it’s all time low. The day I found out I was pregnant I was at my local Walgreens around the corner from my apartment buying 5 bottles of sleeping pills ready to end it all. I had nothing to live for anymore. After all I wouldn’t be missed. As I was walking down the isle hands full of Unisom sleep gels, I become overwhelmed with an intense feeling to buy a pregnancy test. It was still 4 days away from my missed period so this was the last thing on my mind that I could possibly be pregnant. Nevertheless, I bought the pregnancy test and my collection of sleeping pills. The look on the employee’s face, priceless. So, five minutes later, I arrive back to my crappy one=bedroom apartment. I set the pills on my couch. Walk to my bathroom, pregnancy test in hand. Pee on the stick blah blah blah. I wait for my results intending it to confirm the negative results that I assumed it would show. Nope. Lady you’re pregnant! What……the…fuck. I put the pills in my bathroom cabinet. I tell my man. After the initial shock we become excited and the five bottles of pills stayed on the bathroom shelf till this day. They sit there. Still tempting me with the devil’s voice. Was this God telling me I was being stupid? Did he give me a new child to show me that I still have something to live for? Possibly. But depression my friend tells you lies. Especially, when things don’t go the way you intended. Especially, when I sit here alone with a man’s baby in me who could care less about me or the baby.
During all this, at 31 years of age, I had finally built up the courage to tell my mom and sister that I am pregnant and manless. Voicing my pain and despair to the both of them what is the response I get? Terminate it. No matter your beliefs, it is completely WRONG to push such beliefs on to someone else. Especially, if you’ve never been in their shoes. No, I believe live your life to the best of your abilities and what decisions you make for your own life is up to you. NO ONE ELSE. So, if you choose to, that’s your choice. If you don’t choose to, that’s also your choice. Nobody else can judge. NOBODY. With that being said, at age 16 I had abortion and the choice of my parents. Now I can only speak for myself. That choice though, destroyed me emotionally. I have always believed that I will continue to be punished the rest of my life for that choice. To go through that again this time around is not even an option for me. I believe adoption would cause the same torment in its own right. So, my choice? Have the baby. ZERO and I mean Zero support from the two of them. So, as I said, I sit here on my black leather sofa in my small one-bedroom apartment 7 ½ weeks pregnant completely alone both physically and emotionally with those 5 bottles of pills still sitting in my bathroom cabinet.