Two.
In ancient times cartographers had little knowledge of the real geography of the world. After drawing what they knew they simply declared that beyond that point there were only dragons. I have always taken pride in the great relationship I have with myself. Growing up with a sister who thinks she's too cool for you and a mother who didn't bother much to get to know her kids I pretty much had a lot of time to dedicate to my musings, to read and question, prone to introspection. As a result, I know myself very well. And for this I am supremely grateful. I don't tweak easily, fortitude is my talent and I am aware of my limitations. I know what to do when the first signs of mean reds appear, I know to steer clear of other people when I get into my funks, and I know the only way to get rid of the funk is to let it run its course. For some people standing on their head and twisting into a pretzel is their go to problem solver. Not me.
After thirty five years of roaming the Earth I have probably gotten myself into more than my fair share of trouble. I have lived what seems two or three different lives. I have succumbed to wanderlust on more than one occasion, knowing full well this makes others deem me irresponsible, (my mother)unstable, (my employers), inconsistent (my shrink), unreliable,(my love interests) and lacking direction (my worried friends). But I know myself. And I know what makes me happy and it's easy to dismiss those people when at least you're having fun. Doing exactly what I want when I want has been my super power, and with my super power comes my super responsibility. The responsibility of not dragging anyone into any experiment gone awry, the responsibility of damage control when the aforementioned doesn't pan out. What I'm getting at is I have always had my scenarios down, and what to do about them in case of. I know my geography. Until now.
Forget the minor things. Being fat and a gross 34DD for the first time, the embarrassment of throwing up into my own bag in the middle of the street in New York, or the way the town car driver shamed me after a particularly bad throw up even though his own wife is pregnant too. ( "But your wife throws up too , right?" "Not like deees."). Smelling danger in the wind and every garbage can within a mile radius, suddenly deciding deviled eggs are a good dinner choice. All the oddities seem small in comparison to the MOOD SWING. Who am I? Why the waterworks? I run a mental checklist of things that I have always been thankful for. They are all still there, plus a cute baby on the way! I am still incredibly lucky, and yet I have never felt more miserable. I share this with my friend Adriana. "I think I have a mental disease", I type into my iPhone. The screen flashes back a response "Your mental disease is called HORMONES, stupid." After a big teary blowup with my procreational partner and victim that same night I decide she's right. I have just never been here, I don't know what any of this will be like. This exceeds the realm of the me I know so well, these are my dragons.
