Friday, February 27, 2009
For the first half of the night, my brain really thought those vivid dreams were real, and whatever was in them that my brain felt needed freaking out over (I know it was some kind of logic problem) was actually real. It was like a hallucination, or perhaps in fact it just was a hallucination. Isn't that in fact the definition? When you can't tell reality from what's going on in your head? Yeah. Fun. It wasn't until later in the night that I realised I was dreaming and freaking out about a dream. At that point I realised it was the vile god-forsaken drug I was taking that was fucking with my head. That helped with the anxiety attacks, but only just a little. I would still wake up in an utter panic. I still couldn't stand to be touched. I still felt like the logic centres of my brain were exploding, like my whole brain was on fire really, like I might never be able to think again. It was very very scary. Hence the hyperventilating, I think. It was still very very hard not to scream for all my lungs were worth. The only reason I know for sure I didn't scream is that I would have for sure woken Chris up fully, and I know I never did that.
Now my tummy hates me. Boo!!! I just ate my morning yogurt and I feel like I need to vomit. Or curl up in a ball and wait until the pain subsides. It's going to fuck with my stomach again, I just know it. When I started taking this medication (for the second time, there was a false start in there), it totally fucked with my stomach. I mean, four days of hell. Every time I ate or drank anything, no matter how little, my stomach got so, so upset. I spent all of last Wednesday to Saturday curled up in a ball. Friday was the worst, every time I ate something, I'd end up crying myself to sleep. It hurt that badly. By Friday night though it started to get a little better. And Chris, tired as he was from his very long week, went and got me chocolate ice cream. It was ever so nice of him, and I, I hate a huge bowl of it, and loved every bite. I didn't even regret it that much! Sadly Saturday morning and afternoon weren't too great either. Damn drug.
Oh gods, and as I sit here, yeah, it's going to be just like that. How much fucking hell am I supposed to put up with?!?!! Honestly now. Chris thinks I should keep taking the drug, but that I should call the Dr. at every turn it seems. I'm not used to that sort of thinking, the calling that is. I don't like to bug.. But after the hallucinations last night, yes, he's right, I need to know if that's normal or not or what. But for me, frankly, the whole, "Your BC might not work so you have to use condoms for as long as you are on this medication", that was the deal breaker. The flashing lights I'm now seeing are also a worry. But I don't know if they are just the drug fucking with my brain or my eyes. I've got an appointment to see an eye doctor in March (it was the soonest I could), to see if my eyes are in fact okay or not. If the drug is in fact fucking with my eyes, then that is a total deal breaker. I have terrible vision as it is. I need my eyes. I'll live with the pain if it comes down to it. I need to be able to see damnit. Though, maybe I'm just paranoid, but it certainly feels like my vision is suffering. :(
I also think I'm going to give myself an ulcer worrying about the whole pregnancy thing. I do not want to get pregnant. And now that I just had my mumps shot is it imperative that I don't get pregnant. *sigh* Fucking drugs. All of them fuck with me. None of them ever do any good. Why is that? Damnit.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I happen to know the mommy. So I know mommy puts make-up on every morning before going to work, or going anywhere for that matter, and her little girl watches her. She wants to be like mommy. She wants lipstick, etc., too.
Mommy loves make-up. Mommy loves being a "girlie-girl". This is something I've never understood. It's too much work in my eyes for one thing, but for another, there has always been a stigma attached to being that kind of woman for me. I'm not sure where the idea came from, but from my childhood (as far back as I can remember), I have always been under the impression that society sees "girlie'girls" as lesser creatures. Somehow they are less useful, less important, less vaulued, less skilled, than men, or even just normal women. I have always stroven to prove I wasn't girlie, that I could do anything any man could do, that I was just as good, just as strong, and just as smart, damnit.
So perhaps it is my life long association with sexism that makes me dislike the idea of 'girlie-girls'. I suppose feminism still has a long way to go, even among women...
I still think two years old is too young to be teaching little girls to wear make-up, or even letting them play with it. I don't care if it's kid safe, that's not the point. It just doesn't feel innocent to me. This little girl is being taught that to be a woman she has to wear make-up, she has to hide her real face because it's not good enough, that she must be pretty. That kind of thinking leads to little girls, and then women thinking that the only value they have is in how they look, not who they are or what they can do!
I hate this. I hate that we teach our children to feel inadequate. I know this is what it boils down to. I've heard the mommy express similar worries -- worries that without her make-up she's not pretty, that she can't show her face. The irony of course is that I've always found her prettier when she wasn't hiding herself under all that crap. But even if she wasn't "prettier" without it, that is so not the point. The point is that she feels the need to hide herself. I hate that we live in a world that teaches women they must be beautiful above all else. She's a wonderful woman, she has a great smile, and her bubbly, friendly, personality can light up any room. It shouldn't matter what she looks like, damnit.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Well, ever since I started taking BC, first to help my uteran health as a result of the PCOS, and then as actual birth control, my menses has become more and more unpleasant. Unpleasant in the sense doctors use it: "This is going to be... unpleasant," and then you experience some of the worst pain of your life. Yeah, like that.
I don't understand, is it because I'm approaching 30? Is my body now torturing me for getting old? I've never felt this kind of pain before. It feels like my uterus is trying to rip itself out of my body. Or, rather, it's going on a rampage, and it's ripping apart all my other internal organs, you know, in spite or something.
I've never been bed-ridden from menses before, but honest to gods, I think today is going to be the day. It hurts to exist, it hurts just sitting here, the pain when I stand up is almost enough to take my breath away. I can barely think for the pain. On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give this an 8, a solid 8.
I hate my uterus today, I really really do.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Found this through Twitter. I've seen a clip of Sarah's before, I don't know why I don't have it bookmarked. Sarah Haskins is my kind of woman. This episode of Target Women, is on Chocolate. Just in time for Valentines day. Gods it cracked me up.
"chocolate is practically fruit! except when it's wind."
best line ever.
Hum... I think I shall go watch this again in fact! Whee!
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Well, bless her sweet heart, she did one better, she called me! I got to talk to my Neda! Sunshine!!
Oh I needed that. You can't imagine how much I needed that! I feel so much better today!
And it made me think of one of my favourite songs. Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers. Bill Withers really is awesome.
Thank the gods sunshine translates through the phone lines or I really would be the saddest SOB!! As it is my heart is light and full of joy for having such a good friend. She saved me once again! I should never have doubted! Some women find men, and make them their best friends, and sort of... abandon, or loose need fro their girl friends for the most part. That.. that is not me. I could handle loosing any man, I could not handle loosing Neda. She's my sunshine!
I still miss her. There's a whole in my life, and my heart where she's supposed to be, but she'll come home again and fill it. And in the meantime, I get little bits of sunshine to see me through. Gods keep her, and bring her home to us. You know if she doesn't come home, it'll be more than just me buying a ticket to South Korea to kidnap her ass and bring her back home. *nods* She's well loved, she is.
Friday, February 6, 2009
I know she needed to go - she wanted to go, that was enough. I'm sure she's having a fab time. And she'll come home eventually(right?). But in the meantime.... oh gods to I miss her.
I didn't think I'd miss her so much, but I do. I do.
I feel like I have no friends.
No one to talk to. No one to babble with. No one to see the late night showings of kids movies withs. No one to go out to dinner with. No one to be silly with.
Her sunshine is gone and I miss it. I miss it.
I miss her.