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I have these moments where my emotions are so incredibly jacked that even normal occurrences start to seem ill-timed. People getting on with their lives and shifting priorities suddenly hits me like a truck and instead of associating it with life going on and things shifting only slightly, I tend to take it as a slow and deliberate motion to remove me from someone’s life.

It’s like I’m stark raving mad when things like this happen. I can hear the crazy flowing in my head and I know it’s emotional instability brought on by hormones or whatever other jacked up stress I might have, but I can’t stop them from flowing and wrapping me up. It’s awkward, because then I also feel guilty about the doubts I have in people for even a split second because of the scenarios I’ve created in my head.

I don’t know how my brain can go from one thing to the other so swiftly, but the idea that someone no longer makes an effort to keep talking to me and it feels like I have to beat my head against the wall to get their attention falls on me in ways I can’t really full explain. It’s like for some reason, the idea that someone could get rid of me because they finally have other focuses or just honestly have gotten me out of their lives to begin with and don’t care to have me back is way too easy for me to accept.

It’s not an isolated case, either. It seems like when one happens, more happen – it’s like a crazy house of cards, or dominoes, or a house made of dominoes – and it’s all I can do to not let the crazy spill all out over everything and somehow screw things up even further. I can’t voice these concerns all the time, because I hear them in my head and I understand how they’d make me sound, and so instead I fret, I stress, and I create more tension for myself to the point where I’ve convinced myself to suck it up and go with it, because what other choice do I have?

I’m a special kind of crazy sometimes, and I realise this.

I find more and more that I’m about as anti-mother as I can be. Not that I feel there’s anything wrong with someone else being a mother, but when the sound of a crying baby makes me want to claw my own eyes out, and I find myself getting cluster headaches more and more while around a crying baby… honestly I kind of just want to dig my uterus out with a spoon and say “Okay, I’m done, you can have this thing. I’m not going to need it.”

The amount of pain that comes with my period, and the fact that I’m pretty sure I don’t have a maternal bone in my body is also a deciding factor in all of this. I’m fine around other people’s kids sometimes, but that’s because I know that in the end they’re not my responsibility. It’s not laziness, either, it’s just a complete and utter lack of want to create a new life and take care of it. The world doesn’t need another me, and let’s be fair, I would be a miserable wench through the entire process.

At this point in life most women are deciding on having children, or if you look at popular fiction as a deciding factor, they’re not having children because of their awesome careers and choices and penis will fix everything, but that’s an entirely different rant… but I find it hard to think of my life as a place where I want to end up wanting children. I could seriously get all my ‘plumbing’ taken out and be peachy keen happy. I imagine I’d have less issues with my body, I wouldn’t be in bloody pain every month, and I wouldn’t feel the obligation to explain to anyone I get into a relationship that I have no desire to procreate – I can just say “Well, I don’t have the equipment.” and when they’re busy questioning that, I can slide in “I never wanted kids anyway.” Or at least that’s how I see it in my head.

Everyone expects a girl/woman to end up in that stage in life where they’re sobbing to themselves about how they don’t have a husband or a baby, and I just find myself lacking the desire to show that kind of emotion over something that doesn’t appeal to me. The idea of finding a happy love is appealing, but kids just aren’t a factor in that. I feel like there’s someone creeping around a corner ready to beat me to death with a diaper genie for my sacrilege against the ideas of motherhood.

I think mother’s are amazing, mine for instance is a hardcore, powerful woman with balls of steel and the ability to stand her own. She had a career as a very successful RN and raised us up with my dad’s help and that was fine – I would never say anything against that – but for me it just doesn’t factor. It doesn’t register as something I should be wanting and I think that’s something that throws people off about me.

I like babies, I just don’t want any, is that okay? I also don’t want them to stick around for ages because… I don’t know how to communicate with them, especially when they’re not mine, but going back to the point even if they were mine I’d feel that I’d somehow screw them up with the wrong decision. I just… kids man, how do they work.