Two words: lightning crotch. This term is an understatement of the experience. We, as a society, need to do a better job of educating our children on sex and mental health.

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I *almost* forgot to record a podcast episode again! But at 11:43 pm, I busted out the recording gear and recorded an episode, live from my bed. 엄마 left New York for Virginia yesterday. She took the bus back, which was weird because she's never done it before. She took the bus up here, too, but Greg picked her up by himself, so I didn't get to actually see her getting on or off a bus. It was hard to say goodbye. It was nice having her here to take care of me, Greg, Gamja, and the little human growing in my body. She'll be back in a month, and I'm looking forward to her being back here. Pregnancy pains are at an all-time high right now. I think the baby might have dropped because my belly looks lower than it was before. I think I'm also breathing better. I can't believe this is happening so soon. I'm so ready, and I'm so not ready.

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My 할아버지 played 화투 with the monks that lived near his home in Seoul. I played 화투 tonight at Sonbul in Bedstuy with my Korean American friends.

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I forgot to record yesterday's episode! I give myself permission to have forgotten yesterday. I think I forgot because I woke up at 3:30 am and my brain was not functioning properly.

I have a list of tried and true things that I do when I'm really struggling. Today ended as a hard day. Having Complex-PTSD feels like all the cards are flipping over, all the dominos are falling down, and the table is being flipped upside-down. My Complex-PTSD inner voice gets really loud, really critical, really condemning, really damning. Complex-PTSD Jieun thinks she can't trust me. She tells me that hope, love, joy, wonder, belief, faith, fun, and awe, are all incredibly dangerous feelings that I have no business having. She tells me that the reality has always been this devastating — I'm just being made aware of it by this triggering situation. She believes that living in a cave with a boulder rolled over the entrance by herself is the only way to keep ourselves safe. She believes that living with our heads on a swivel, our eyes constantly scanning for danger, and our fists always up — that this is the way we keep ourselves safe. She pulls us into self-sabotage mode, and I know it's happening, but I feel completely powerless to the power of the Complex-PTSD episode. Somehow, doing little things to make little improvements to the present moment is what helps me out of these Complex-PTSD episodes. Even recording this episode is a way to find my way back to myself.

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When we acknowledge and voice our fears, we're able to move through them. When we move through them, we can create space for hope. The fears are still there, but we can hold hope without it feeling like a lie. Improving the moment, beautifying my space, going outside, going on walks, journaling, going to a coffee shop, sticking to a routine, cleaning and organizing my home. These are some of the things I like to do when I'm feeling overwhelmed and powerless. They give me my power back.

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The third trimester is kicking my ass. It's definitely the hardest one out of the three, and it's unfortunately coming with a lot of anticipatory grief. 아빠 should be here and he's not.

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It was 92 degrees today. Being pregnant in this kind of heat is insanity. I really struggle with receiving help. Subconsciously, giving help feels safer to me because I feel like I'm in control, but it also leads me to feeling a ton of resentment. I often give until I'm giving out of an empty well. It's something I'm working on. I'm scared of giving birth. I also accidentally drank moldy almond milk today because the cap was busted and we didn't know it. Greg emailed a complaint to Trader Joe's.

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I can't believe it's August. I could give birth this month or next month. We are in the final stretch of this 280-day marathon. In January, I could barely imagine making it to this point, and now, somehow, I'm here. I'm both ready to give birth to this kid already, and I'm simultaneously absolutely not ready.

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This is the first month where we aren't recording and releasing a song. While I'm bummed about it, I'm also proud of myself for not prioritizing my ambitions over my needs.

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I went to Asian American Arts Alliance's July Town Hall. I walked there, with a 30-pound watermelon attached to my stomach aka a growing human being, and it was really hard, but walking makes me feel like myself. I love how walkable New York City is. I love being a part of the Asian American arts community. Sometimes, I need a reminder that creating art matters.

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