29 January, 2012

The Gymnast. Again.

Oh, he gon get it. My boyfriend just brought up the Gymnast after a mini spat about me being so close to Ben even though he clearly wants to hit that. I don't speak to the Gymnast because of what we had going on. Which was nothing. That doesn't mean we didn't want it to but irrelevant.
What is relevant is the rule. Rule is; We do not talk about him. And that's exactly who he brought up. HE BROUGHT HIM UP.
The Gymnast, the guy I'm still secretly getting over. The guy I actually made a post about earlier. The guy. THE guy. I pine, I perish.
And it's my boyfriend who says his name first. I take it out of my vocabulary, I block him on facebook, I forget he ever existed and how much he did for me and then the man I love painfully tears open my chest and puts three letters in there. That's it. Three whole letters and panic ensues.
How the hell do I say "Don't use his name, it still hurts" without letting on that saying his name hurts? Turn out "Ok, rules were we don't talk about him. You said that. So don't blame this on me." and then changing the topic really fast works.
It does hurt though. A lot. When I lost that feeling I had with Ben and Bridget and my 9s, when I left school and hid inside myself, the Gymnast pushed to still be in my life. Ben has always been the other half of me but the Gymnast...I loved him so hard it gave me constant head aches. I wanted so much to come from him.
I miss him and I still can't even say his name aloud. I've been trying but I'm scared for some reason. Absence has not made the heart fonder but something freaky is going on.

The Gymnast

I'm such a horrible liar. Especially to myself.
No matter how much I love my boyfriend the sad truth is that I was still thinking of the Gymnast over a year later. I think maybe that's why Trent hates him so much. He could sense there was something I just didn't want to let go. Which is mostly why I agreed to in the end.
Trent got so jealous it started leaking into my other guyfriend relationships and I didn't want to admit I was still hanging on to this painful hope so I conceded defeat. Now I've lost one of my best friends even though he can't hold a candle to Ben.
But that's different. I never loved Ben like I loved the Gymnast. I want to be 'just friends' but how the hell am I supposed to do that when I secretly want to punch his girlfriend? I've never met her but she seems really nice and the worst par is that she actually makes the Gymnast happy.
This post makes me hate honesty.

26 January, 2012

Can you get Ambulance Frequent Flyer points?

Alright boys, I'm going to share about something you don't want to know.
Well, I got myself admitted to hospital quite recently. My period was late by about six days when I started spotting. I didn't realise I was late until I started spotting and when I noticed the blood wasn't bright red, I started to panic just a little bit. Blood which is darker or even brown can be a symptom of a late period but it's also a symptom of pregnancy. So I was a little worried. And when it didn't get heavier but also didn't stop, I lost it like a fat kid outside a closed bakery. I thought it was another loss.
When the chest pains started, they were so bad I thought I had to be having a heart attack even though I'm eighteen. Then I started to feel like my chest was bottoming out every time I breathed. That was fucking freaky. It was like part of my chest was just disappearing every time I took a breath. I tried really hard to keep it under control but this was the worst panic attack I have ever had and I knew it which just made it worse.
The chest pain went away but then I started to tingle. I called myself an ambulance and waited out the front. It may have been 2am in the morning but I did it alone. I wasn't going to have my dad around for this side of me and I couldn't get hold of Trent. In the ambulance, it got worse. I was taking huge, shuddering, gasping breaths that made my legs shake. It felt like painless pins and needles on the outer halves of both hands, in my toes and when it went further I cried. I felt my face going numb and just closed my eyes. I didn't want to try anymore.
I clung to the stretcher for dear life. In the end, I looked like I was preparing to give birth rather than having the worst panic attack of my life. I was sitting up with my knees as close to my chest as possible so I could see my feet and tell myself they weren't going blue. I had my hands clutching the sides of the stretcher so damn tight that I thought my knuckles were going to burst through the skin. By the time I got to the hospital, I was breathing better but definitely not easy and my heart rate had really slowed down. That meant nothing. I was taking 28 breaths a minute (18 being the highest normal rate) and my heart rate was 114 (90 being the highest norm for someone resting for the last half hour).
They tried to put me in bed 13. I've been in bed 13 and it was unpleasant. I went to 20 instead. After the ten minutes settling me in, I still hadn't calmed down so when they came bearing a sedative in pill form I took it. I forgot to fight them on that. I hate taking tablets. They scare me half to death now I know what I can do with them.
And they came with the needles. I had blood taken and an ultrasound at about 3am. There was nothing there. More appropriate to say no one. I have never been so relieved and so upset at the same time. I went back to bed 20 and tried to sleep. I was lucky enough to get in about an hour before I was cleared to leave.
The best thing about this entire experience is that Trent came. He lives in Cranbourne and doesn't always hear his phone so he can be unreliable but he answered. I was tired and cranky and I missed him so much I didn't care that I hadn't seen him properly in over a week. He took me home and he stayed with me. He was my hero then. I needed him and he actually came through for me.
I poked him awake and tried to tell him some of what I was thinking and feeling but he was asleep again. He probably was before I even had time to open my mouth. I stopped talking and I cried a lot instead. I didn't have much chance to do that well between calling the ambulance and getting back to my bed. I didn't even care that Trent was asleep. I just rolled over and he cuddled me while I cried about everything that was hurting in those dark corners where pain hides itself. Eventually I slept.
He left a couple of hours after I got to sleep but I was ok by then. I got over the panic and the loneliness. Even as I write this, none of the pain or fear comes to mind. Now I can look at it and say it wasn't the end of the world. In the moment, it was terrifying but that was then and this is now.

20 January, 2012

Return to Lemons

Oh Lemons, how I've missed you. I haven't had a rant in so long. I came on to make one up as I went but I stopped first to read my last post. So now I've found my rant. I read about how I felt because of my miscarriage and it hardly did a thing. I've become so immune to pain that I feel it for no one, including myself. I don't even care what those words about using Lee as a middle name could have done to Ryan. I used present tense instead of past because it's true. I do love him and so hard it hurts. But that is irrelevant and hopefully not the same kind of love I felt 5 years ago. If it is, I'm screwed. Another thing I'm pissed at is the weight gain. I get that I was really fucked up and depressed but I can't rationalise gaining 20 kilos. I WAS DOING SO DAMN WELL. Now I have this little bulge and the bitch of a thing about that is that strangers have put their hands on my tummy and congratulated me. I want to smack them in the face. Granted, when I gain weight it goes to my ass and stomach so I don't actually get the whole 'fat' thing going on. I just get this little bump which makes me look pregnant. So first I have a miscarriage and then it leads to me looking like I'm pregnant? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-
So I'm laying on this fake bump of mine while I rant my ass off in the middle of the night with yoghurt. Yes. Yoghurt. A side effect of the over-eating that I'm not happy with; I can't sleep on an empty stomach. There is very little yoghurt left which means my tummy is nearing satisfaction so I'll leave now. I'll go elsewhere on the internet until I give up and have a nightmare with a crying baby who isn't there. That is for another time.