doppelganger

Sometimes when you think it's thrown everything at you that it possibly can, it grabs the kitchen sink and hurls it straight for your head.
And in those five seconds of fight or flight moment, you gotta make the decision. Face what's coming, grab a hefty catchers mit and try your best to catch the sink and keep yourself from injury... or... duck and run away.
And sometimes what's thrown is simply a rubber ducky and sometimes its an atomic bomb. In this case, it's quite the bomb.
But what I've learned, in this past week, is that everyone has the knowledge in them to diffuse that bomb so that when it lands no one is hurt. Yeah, having a bomb heading for your peaceful home is stressful, sometimes you think you can't handle it. But what else are you going to do? You can't change the fact that it's soaring headlong straight for you and everything you love, you just gotta reach deep inside and find the code to render it harmless.
And that's the end of my metaphor.
No one, honestly, is ready for a child. No matter what age or place in life, even if they think they are. If everyone were to wait until they thought they were emotionally or financially ready, the human race would be extinct and no one would have children.
No, I don't feel that I'm ready. I won't even be ready when it's here. But you know what? What else can I do but try my hardest to be as ready as I can? There's no other choice, I can't run. And I don't want to.
People on the outside might worry, "How do you know that you want to spend the rest of your life with this guy and have a child with him?" or "You said you loved your last boyfriend."
And what those people must understand is that there are first loves and there are true loves. My ex was my first, obviously since he was the first guy to treat me like a human being. But I can honestly say, if I were in this situation with him... I'd run. I would've either found a way to get the money for an abortion or given it up for adoption and never talked to him again. I knew, even when I lived with him, that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him. I'd've killed him! But he doesn't even matter. No one matters like Austin does. And he, he is my true love. I know this because, in my painfully analytical mind, I've thought about it a million times. I've lost sleep over it. Just to make sure that I know, 100%, that he is the person I want to go through this with, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I've assessed this situation in my freakouts and out of them. I've looked at it from every angle possible, asked every question to myself that I could think about. And no, there is no other person imaginable or in existance that I would go through this with.
We have a good, loving, secure relationship. Even the prospect of a baby couldn't ruin that. Nothing can. Therefore I know I'll make it, because I know that we'll make it.
No, I wasn't mature enough. But one thing is for sure, I've done an unimaginable amount of maturing since I got this news. Assessing this situation from every angle possible, asking all the "what ifs", telling family and friends, telling his family, going through the stressful times and not once falling victim to any of my "bad habits" I'm in recovery for. I've felt the absolute worst, emotionally, that I ever have. Such a terrible, heartwrenching mixture of emotions I never knew existed. To the point where I would gladly trade that kind of pain to the darkest moments with my eating disorders. They were a breeze compared to this. But you know what? I've still not cut, or taken pills, or drank myself into a coma, or starved, or puked. Because I know that nothing is worth it. Is that not maturing? And I haven't wavered in my decision to keep this child. Yes, I've freaked out, thinking "How am I going to do this?" (but who doesn't?), but I haven't said "That's it. I'm giving it up for adoption." I'm answering to my actions, however unplanned they may be. Is that not maturing?
I just know that everything, no matter how seemingly unpleasant at the time, happens for a reason. Though I may not see the reason right now, there is one. I've looked back on every not-so-good occurence in my past and found something good that came out of it.
The divorce? We had to move into the village and get on food stamps, after being nearly rich and living the "american dream" but you know what? I wouldn't change that. I learned so much about the world and about life and about doing without. I've learned that I -can- make it, no matter how little money we have and no matter how badly it seems the heavens gave up on you. I'm better for it.
The disorders? I've learned that I have a great amount of inner strength. It takes so much determination, you have to be unimaginably strong to do without food (a thing so vital to life itself) for weeks at a time. I realize that I found that strength through the wrong reasons, but it's there none the less. I'm stronger for it.
So much, the worst situations imaginable, always ends up to be something good in the end. You may not see it at the time, you may hate life at the time, but when it's all said and done and you see the reason... I'll bet you all the money I have that you wouldn't change a thing.
Even now, in this situation that i'm in, I wouldn't change anything. Yeah, I wish this hadn't happened... but if I could change it, make it so that this wasn't happening, it'd probably come at the cost of having never met Austin. And you know what? I wouldn't change that.
I've never been so sure in my life, of anything, as I am about my love for him. And I never thought I could be so sure in recovery. I've only doubted it once, though I didn't act on it. And I'm sure, positive, that I'll get through this.
It's just a bomb that life has chucked at my head, and I'll find the combination to diffuse it... It won't be the ruination of my life. The only way it could be is if I let it. Yes, I could surrender and give up on all my passions. But that's my choice. It's not the baby making me give up. It'd be me. And I'm not giving up. I'm still going to go to college. I'm still going to keep writing. Just because I have a child doesn't mean my future is pitch black and that my mind will give up. If anything it'll keep me on my toes enough and my mind will flourish.
People have survived through worse. It's all a matter of will. They were determined enough to make it. The ones who weren't fell by the wayside. I'm one of those who will make it. It will be hard, the hardest thing I've had to do in my life, but I'll make it.
I don't surrender to anything. I'm fucking defiant as hell. I screamed loud and flailed at a failed protest at school. So why would I lie down and take it now? I won't.
This is happening. We'll handle it. I'll have a child to love and to raise, albeit a bit early... but I'll still have my life.
To say the least, my life is changed. I've changed. Trivial things just don't matter to me anymore. And things I once thought trivial are the world.