Down the Drain

by Julia Fox

We slide right back into our pattern of immense love and extreme rage paired with crushing silence and the lingering pain of his absence.

It becomes clear that we really don’t like each other as much as we thought we did. The love that we once shared seems to have dissipated and all that is left is a sense of resentment and frustration.

I have had abortions in the past and have always been able to rationalize them in a way that I am never left traumatized. I’ll be able to survive this.

The previous times I’d been pregnant, I would immediately summon all my friends into the bathroom and it would turn into this big convoluted ordeal regarding what I was going to do, knowing all along, deep down, that I would terminate.

As a white woman, I feel a sense of duty to join the fight and stand in solidarity with the protesters. I ride my bike up and down the city, warning the front lines of approaching police and hoping my unborn son in my belly can hear our chants against injustice.

It’s the kind of love that claws its way out of your gut, rips you apart, and puts you back together again.

I can’t help but feel like I was so close to achieving my ultimate dream scenario. It feels like I played the lottery and got every number right except the very last one, instantly crushing any faith I had in life.

It feels like I’m stuck in the confines of my own head, paralyzed and terrified, thrashing around to wake myself out of this hell.

I’ve always been on his team but he’s never been on mine, and I can’t keep wasting my time begging him to be someone he’s not. He’s shown me who he is and this is the time to do something about it.

My mom stayed in her miserable marriage. I did not. I had the will to change. I won’t pass down the generational trauma to my kid. I tell myself that this is temporary and I’m going to dig myself out of this mess.

He can take over my life, but he’s not taking my voice.

I feel like I’m simultaneously living in my wildest dream and trapped in my worst nightmare.

It’s just another loss to add to the avalanche of loss I’m already buried under. No big deal.

I don’t want men to like me anymore. I’m over it. I’m reclaiming my body and rejecting the notion that I exist only to be visually pleasing.

I wouldn’t be where I am today without the countless mistakes I made to get here. It’s okay to live with regret. It’s not okay to let it consume you.

Sometimes you have to say fuck it and throw your life down the drain just to see where you’ll come out on the other side. The most profound beauty emerges from the ashes of destruction.

Because the truth is, anyone who is someone first started out as a delusional dreamer.