Rejoice in things done well, damn it.

I’ve been trying to cheer myself up, which isn’t easy, so I sat down and made a list of all the wonderful things I’ve done to remind myself that I’m a worthwhile person who deserves to live and breathe and be on this earth. And I didn’t even give in to the self-indulgent temptation to make an “awful things I’ve done” column, since I know that one would be a lot longer.

Yeah, it’s a short list. In fact it’s a very short list. In fact there’s only one thing on it: Danger.

I spent a little while rereading the posts I wrote at the end of my pregnancy and the very beginning of Danger’s life, and it’s funny: all my anxieties about the relationship with Paul and Linda and what our open adoption would look like and the more practical concerns about how my accidental prenatal drug and alcohol use would affect Danger – I can actually laugh about all of those anxieties. And it’s nice to laugh down here at the bottom of this pit of despair, so I’ll take whatever laughter I can get.

I can get down on myself, and will continue to do so. And I can battle my disease and deal with the suicidal ideations and general despair that I know are symptoms of said disease and not actual, real feelings (not to diminish them or say such things are mutually exclusive – but I know that when I feel suicidal, it’s because there is something wrong with my brain chemistry and not because I actually want to die, and this helps me to, you know, not kill myself, because “symptoms” are easier to deal with than “feelings”). And I am very angry at myself these days, and angry at the decisions I have made and am making. We all know those times when you lie awake at night and think about a conversation that went poorly, like, five years ago, and you get super mad at yourself and think things like, “WHY did I say that to her? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?” and you toss and turn and feel all tortured and anxious about this interaction that does not matter and cannot be changed and also did I mention it happened five years ago? So I do that a lot, and I also get angry at myself for being lazy and complacent, for not living up to my full potential, for the lives I ruined being cavalier and Iago-esque in my thinking (“Haha, I will do this terrible thing JUST BECAUSE I CAN”) which is also a big part of my current disastrous romantical problems, and so before I drowned in this mighty sea of negative thinking I needed to take a step back and say, fine, if you’re so awful and useless and terrible and Iago-esque, then look at yourself honestly and say there’s no single good thing you’ve ever done.

And guess what! I couldn’t. Because Danger. Because Paul and Linda. Because he is perfect and they are perfect and I MADE THAT. I did it. Me. I am taking full credit for that because quite frankly I really, really need to take full credit for something positive today. So while I understand that a lot of people had and have hands in making our situation as positive as it is, SHUT UP because today I am taking the credit.

My parents, so wonderfully involved in this open adoption, remind me frequently of what a good job I did picking Paul and Linda. And I just reread the post I wrote about them when we first met, and honestly at that point I would have matched with Charles Manson if he’d been nice to me, so I shy away from taking credit on that because I feel like it was just luck and Spence-Chapin and good timing but you know what? FUCK YES GOOD JOB ME, they are awesome and I picked them and so good job me for picking them.

People tell me all the time how beautiful Danger is, and I know that’s a thing you say to something about their children and I know that Paul and Linda aren’t exactly objective observers so when they say things about how bonkers good his development is or what an amazing little human he is I try to take it with the appropriate grain of salt but you know what? NOT TODAY. I made that human and he is THE BEST HUMAN and I today I am taking full responsibility for that.

I know some credit has to go to Max Power for his genetics and his support but guess who the fuck chose Max Power? That’s right, bitches: IT WAS ME. I asked him for a light in front of our student housing, I insisted he be friends with me, my ovaries made the eggs that trapped his sperm, I carried his baby, I chose him to be my life partner. As somebody who historically makes HORRIFYINGLY TERRIBLE romantic decisions, I chose right the only time it has ever mattered that I choose right. So today I am taking credit for Max Power.

A lot of work goes into our open adoption. A lot of credit needs to be given to a lot of people for it working out so well. But fuck that shit because today, I give all the credit to me. Because I really need something to put in the win column. So good job, me. Way to do that one good thing.