ok, im feeling super depressed about this at the moment so ive gotta tell someone.
I dated matt for about 2 years, off and on. when we finally "ended" it last summer, we decided to do the friends with benifits thing because we still loved eachother and had a physical attraction, but couldnt handle a relationship due to complications with my pissy bitchy family. Ive been on the pill for a long time and neither of us had slept with anyone else, so we didnt bother with condoms because they only complicated things. well, the end of august last year my period only lasted one day, and i had skipped my pills a couple times during the month, so i took a test. there was only 1 question, and even before i looked at that ugly little stick i knew: i was pregnant. i freaked out. i mean, i was 16, had a mediocre job, friends who had lives, a family that would kill me if they found out i was still sleeping with matt, let alone carrying his kid, and a plan to finish school, go to college, and make something out of my life. there was no way i could have a kid. i knew adoption was out of the question (i dont think its right to pass on your kid to someone else. i know adopted kids, its not fair to them.), and i couldnt keep it. but the more i thought about abortion, which matt and i had agreed on if worst came to worst (even though it was against his beliefs), i realized i couldnt do it. it was like this thing was a part of me and it was going to stay that way. i was going to have to keep it. i even started to make plans for it. i decided i was going to run away to a shelter for teen moms near chicago when i really started to show and not tell anyone, not even matt. i wasnt going to put this pressure on him. i mean, we werent dating, i wasnt his responsibility and he didnt need this stress in his life since he had recently found out his dads cancer was back.
the next two months were hell. i was sore, nausious, and threw up a lot. i even skipped class a few times to cry in the 700 bathroom. matt could tell something was wrong, but i couldnt tell him so i told him it was smaller things that were bugging me: my stomache hurt, my mom was being a bitch, school was stressing me out. it killed me to not be able to tell him. i even lied and told him i got my period, and i cant stand lying to him because he is the one person i love more than anyone in the world. i wanted his love an support, no, needed it, but i knew i couldnt involve him in this. at the same time, i grew to love the thing growing inside me. it was weird, i didnt want baby, but at the same time i loved it dearly.
i went about life as usual. well, actually i freaked out one night in october and got really drunk and high and slept with my best friend and my ex best friends brother, but thats another story. actually i didnt find out about that until 2 months or so ago. but anyway i went to school and work, hung out with friends, slept with matt, and kept taking my pills. i guess i figured if i kept doing normal things my life would go back to normal. i guess it worked. towards the end of october i started feeling these weird pains around a week after i would have gotten my period. i cant really describe the pain emotionally, but physically i was in hell. ive never been stabbed in the stomache, but i imagine it feels a lot like a miscarrage. over and over i was forced to excuse myself to the restroom to push blood and guts out of me, and finally a little thing the size of a roll of pennies. it killed me to flush my baby down the toilet, but i knew it was for the best. my hell was over, or so i thought.
i slipped into a deep depression. i didnt sleep, ate a ton, and cried silent tears when no one was looking. then, on the night before halloween i spent the night at a party at matts house. around 11 we got into a huge fight, and ended up outside in the freezing cold screaming at eachother, and i told him. i broke down crying, and i kept telling him i didnt want to tell him and that i was sorry, and he held me and told me he loved me and he was sorry. that night we slept next to eachother, or atleast until i fell mostly asleep and then he moved to the floor because the couch was cramped. it was so nice that he cared.
the next morning we went about buisness as usual. we didnt tell anyone and dint really talk about it, and its been that way since. i think we talked about it twice. i finally told my other best friend potus about a week ago, and im starting to feel a little better. but it still kills me that i could have had something, and that i didnt feel like i could tell the person i loved about it. i cant even tell my friends! so im telling this to the few, if any, of u that will read this, in hopes that someone will understand my depression and feelings of hopelessness. god i need help.