[redacted]

I am. So tired. Of my brain. I don't want to feel this way. I really don't.

Twenty-six days 'til surgery.

Five days 'til S leaves for Cordova until...unsure how long?

Four days until I have to take the first full-length NBCOT practice exam.

Three days until L's last drum lesson.

Three labs left until the end of the semester.

Three and-a-half weeks left until I defend my capstone.

Two weeks left at capstone sites (not counting this one).

...there have been intermittent conversations lately about feelings. S's and mine. Nothing new on my end except for gradually increasing anxiety about postpartum. Postpartum was hell last time and (I feel) will be hell this time too. This tends to be dismissed by care providers, friend, spouse; you've got this! Cool cool cool. Love the confidence, still quite concerned about postpartum psychosis especially given *gestures broadly* all of this. "All of this" being in large part about S's difficulty emotionally supporting me as is, much less under...more stress.

That being said there is some ambivalence at play. I am highly concerned about his capacity to be a supportive co-parent and partner to me in situations of escalating stress, because any conversation I try to start about my feelings quickly turn into him talking about himself. And this isn't unexpected. It's just...who he is. It's just a bad setup all around, because I have a lot of trouble self-regulating lately (always?), am pretty BPDey at the best of times, and according to him I can't curate my tone or words in such a way as to not sound dismissive or patronizing. This morning he compared me to my father. I told him that I called the Crisis Hotline a week ago because I didn't feel like I had anyone else to turn to in that moment, and he was just like: "Yeah. Later that day I called [sponsor name] because I needed to talk to other people too." the undertone being that maybe I should try that. 

So I just stopped talking. Not in a silent treatment way (I don't think), just in a *concludes conversation, goes upstairs to do chores/cry/watch Girls5Eva* way. Which could be the same thing, I don't know.

I have other thoughts, but they are kind of a mess, to be honest. I need to stop now and get ready for lab.