It's been a LONG time since I stopped in at Lemons. High school has been keeping me busy. It's nothing like I expected. Essentially, yes. There are teachers and students and classrooms and bathrooms that smell like menthol cigarettes but it's still not what my brain was preparing me for.
The tiredness is worst. I can get up at 7.30 after going to bed past midnight no problems but that isn't how I'm tired. I've found that I'm tired as I work. Take today for instance. I was concentrating on my History SAC, focusing so hard on the right answer that I had moments where I felt the need to faint. I was honestly surprised when I reached the end of the SAC and was still conscious. I also feel more of the 'over it' kind of tired rather than the 'sleepy' kind. The thought of putting up with the bitchiness and the perfectionism for even one more day puts me in a rut the size of the Great Wall of China.
I can't stand the girls. They're so set in their ways. We have to sit in the same places, eat in the same places, cook at the same work bench in Food Tech, take study periods in the same layout. We have to treat our teachers a certain way (usually badly) and because I have my own rules, my own priorities I become the bitch. I am The Scapegoat.
I'm too old to 'get' them, too young to be any other adult. I'm the one who ends up losing every battle because I am not the same. They think I don't care what they say or believe about me but I do. I hate being 'special' or 'different' or a 'freak'. I want to be Amy, head down and unnoticed. Better yet, Terreur with her head down and UNKNOWN.
"One more week" I tell myself. "One more week then two off. You won't have to see any one. You won't have to talk to anyone. You can hide and cry to your heart's content. One more week."
Sooner, if I really want to lose.
23 March, 2012
26 February, 2012
Jude vs. Keith
I'm glad I decided to unblock The Gymnast on facebook and talk to him again. You see, absence makes the heart grow fonder and I've realised I don't feel all those things I think I feel. Not even a little bit. The Gymnast is one of my best friends and he has been good to me but I've gotten over him.
Ever read the poem 'The Best Way to Get Over Somebody is To Get Under Someone Else'? It's on deviantart and it has got this situation covered in my eyes. I don't care about The Gymnast the way I care about my boyfriend. I don't love him like I used to, like I love my boyfriend now.
It's taken me too long to realise I am happy with what I have and I don't need the memory I have perfected. My boyfriend hurts me; he makes me cry and insecure. He does this because he is insecure, because he is afraid of someone else loving me and taking me away.
As often as he hurts me, he takes it all away. He wraps me up in cute messages and hides his feelings in them so I'll read something and suddenly see just how much he loves me. He tries to be manly but he's really just a mushy lovesick young adult at heart.
Did I mention he also looks so gorgeous with his daughter? He loves her, so much and that's worth sticking around for. The way things are going, I doubt he's ever going to be interested in having any more kids but at least I can spoil Marissa. I love him so much that even missing out on having kids wouldn't make me leave. That doesn't mean I don't still want them though, just that I'd be willing to give that part of me up for him.
Ever read the poem 'The Best Way to Get Over Somebody is To Get Under Someone Else'? It's on deviantart and it has got this situation covered in my eyes. I don't care about The Gymnast the way I care about my boyfriend. I don't love him like I used to, like I love my boyfriend now.
It's taken me too long to realise I am happy with what I have and I don't need the memory I have perfected. My boyfriend hurts me; he makes me cry and insecure. He does this because he is insecure, because he is afraid of someone else loving me and taking me away.
As often as he hurts me, he takes it all away. He wraps me up in cute messages and hides his feelings in them so I'll read something and suddenly see just how much he loves me. He tries to be manly but he's really just a mushy lovesick young adult at heart.
Did I mention he also looks so gorgeous with his daughter? He loves her, so much and that's worth sticking around for. The way things are going, I doubt he's ever going to be interested in having any more kids but at least I can spoil Marissa. I love him so much that even missing out on having kids wouldn't make me leave. That doesn't mean I don't still want them though, just that I'd be willing to give that part of me up for him.
05 February, 2012
Eww, girl germs
Forgive me but I use this place like a diary. I found a lump on my cervix today. We're going to skip all the weird questions such as 'What the hell were you doing with your cervix?' and move on with it. This post is not for the squeamish.
I'm nearing ovulation and I wanted to confirm that by checking my cervix position and the like. Soft, high, medium open. And then a tiny hard bump just next to the opening on the left side. My left, not yours.
I'm freaking out. Last time I had a girly parts check up, I was sprung with inactive cervical cancer (pre-cancerous cells) on my 6 monthly ultrasound.The ultrasound was done in October, treatment began in November, miscarriage in December. I was busy and sad. That ultrasound was followed by six months of intensive blood work(weekly), hormone therapy(daily tablet), monthly ultrasounds(monthly. durr) and a few doses of cryosurgery(they stick liquid nitrogen or carbon dioxide on the cervix). Then another six months of fortnightly blood work, my daily hormone breakfast and an ultrasound every second month. And then, thank Bejeesus came the all clear.
Since this was inactive cancer, I don't have a 'remission period'. No five years of high alert or similar. Just a ton of nerves requiring constant vigilance.
Which sometimes comes in the form of a finger up your woohoo.
I'm nearing ovulation and I wanted to confirm that by checking my cervix position and the like. Soft, high, medium open. And then a tiny hard bump just next to the opening on the left side. My left, not yours.
I'm freaking out. Last time I had a girly parts check up, I was sprung with inactive cervical cancer (pre-cancerous cells) on my 6 monthly ultrasound.The ultrasound was done in October, treatment began in November, miscarriage in December. I was busy and sad. That ultrasound was followed by six months of intensive blood work(weekly), hormone therapy(daily tablet), monthly ultrasounds(monthly. durr) and a few doses of cryosurgery(they stick liquid nitrogen or carbon dioxide on the cervix). Then another six months of fortnightly blood work, my daily hormone breakfast and an ultrasound every second month. And then, thank Bejeesus came the all clear.
Since this was inactive cancer, I don't have a 'remission period'. No five years of high alert or similar. Just a ton of nerves requiring constant vigilance.
Which sometimes comes in the form of a finger up your woohoo.
03 February, 2012
Buttercup.
Lately I've found that I build things up in my head. Donating blood wasn't as scary or painful as my brain was telling me it would be neither was going back to school. Yes it was hard and I wanted to fuck some people right up but it wasn't half as terrifying as I told myself it would be. It was sad without Ben.
I had no panic attacks and I haven't cried yet today. I slept through until 8.30 but I got to school on time. I have heaps of homework but I'm reasonably interested in completing it. I wasn't sure about my friends but they came through. A lot of my teachers pulled me aside but I survived their questions.
Tell you what, that nap was definitely welcomed when I got home. Ok, that series of naps. Each twenty minutes long with 5 minutes between them. I had three and they perked me right up without the worry that I won't sleep tonight.
I went to school with a hickey -_- That I was not too impressed with but I didn't realise it was there until it was all there. Trent's idea of a compromise to tattooing TAKEN on my forehead...It's like a little note that says "Don't even think about thinking about it or I'll fuck your face up." A little possessive but it actually feels ok knowing that he's worried I'll find someone better.
I had no panic attacks and I haven't cried yet today. I slept through until 8.30 but I got to school on time. I have heaps of homework but I'm reasonably interested in completing it. I wasn't sure about my friends but they came through. A lot of my teachers pulled me aside but I survived their questions.
Tell you what, that nap was definitely welcomed when I got home. Ok, that series of naps. Each twenty minutes long with 5 minutes between them. I had three and they perked me right up without the worry that I won't sleep tonight.
I went to school with a hickey -_- That I was not too impressed with but I didn't realise it was there until it was all there. Trent's idea of a compromise to tattooing TAKEN on my forehead...It's like a little note that says "Don't even think about thinking about it or I'll fuck your face up." A little possessive but it actually feels ok knowing that he's worried I'll find someone better.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
04 October, 2011
Comfort
Aaron Lee,
I didn't put a great deal of thought into your name when I gave it to you but now it is important. I named you to make you real, to give myself a proper baby to miss. It made you one step closer to being born in my eyes. I looked up your name. Without even knowing, I gave you a name that means mountain of strength. That's what I need from you, baby boy. I need you to make me strong. I'm scared that there will be no more babies in my life because I lost you.
Mummy loves you but it's so hard on her because she does. Every time I look in the mirror, I turn sideways looking for the baby bump I never grew. You should have been born by now but instead it's coming up to the first anniversary since I lost you. I'm alone. Your daddy isn't here. No one is. I'm in the house by myself, crying to sleep because I don't have you. I'm so afraid to talk to your daddy about it because he has never brought you up in front of me. He'd barely known I was pregnant for a few days before I miscarried.
I think he loves you. Neither of us got to know you but if I love you so much from such a short time, he has to feel something. I need to hear him say it. I need to know that he cares about our baby as much as I do and that losing you changed him too. I didn't even get to have an ultrasound so he couldn't even see you. I couldn't see you either, or feel you, but I knew you were there waiting to be born. That's something he missed out on.
I gave you your middle name after an old friend of mine. I love him so hard it hurts. He is the kind of person I would want to see you grow up as. I touch my belly a lot when I think of you, even though you aren't a part of me anymore. It comforts me. I wanted to be a mother so badly and I was denied. I throw all my love into Marissa. You could have had a big sister. I just wish you had been born. I miss you so much. You were so many beautiful things to me.
I dream about holding you all the time. I'd die just to hold you once, to know who you are, to see you. I wish you were here baby boy but you aren't and I have to live with that. I love you so much.
Mummy
I didn't put a great deal of thought into your name when I gave it to you but now it is important. I named you to make you real, to give myself a proper baby to miss. It made you one step closer to being born in my eyes. I looked up your name. Without even knowing, I gave you a name that means mountain of strength. That's what I need from you, baby boy. I need you to make me strong. I'm scared that there will be no more babies in my life because I lost you.
Mummy loves you but it's so hard on her because she does. Every time I look in the mirror, I turn sideways looking for the baby bump I never grew. You should have been born by now but instead it's coming up to the first anniversary since I lost you. I'm alone. Your daddy isn't here. No one is. I'm in the house by myself, crying to sleep because I don't have you. I'm so afraid to talk to your daddy about it because he has never brought you up in front of me. He'd barely known I was pregnant for a few days before I miscarried.
I think he loves you. Neither of us got to know you but if I love you so much from such a short time, he has to feel something. I need to hear him say it. I need to know that he cares about our baby as much as I do and that losing you changed him too. I didn't even get to have an ultrasound so he couldn't even see you. I couldn't see you either, or feel you, but I knew you were there waiting to be born. That's something he missed out on.
I gave you your middle name after an old friend of mine. I love him so hard it hurts. He is the kind of person I would want to see you grow up as. I touch my belly a lot when I think of you, even though you aren't a part of me anymore. It comforts me. I wanted to be a mother so badly and I was denied. I throw all my love into Marissa. You could have had a big sister. I just wish you had been born. I miss you so much. You were so many beautiful things to me.
I dream about holding you all the time. I'd die just to hold you once, to know who you are, to see you. I wish you were here baby boy but you aren't and I have to live with that. I love you so much.
Mummy
23 May, 2011
Emma
I'm a little *sadface* because I'm not really ranting today but I like what I've been working on. What I have begun is a series of texts on 'Emma'. Emma is just the name given to one of the voices/moods/random feelings that run around and cause havoc. What Emma actually is a little difficult to decide on so I'm giving myself a few ways to express her in literature. What I have for you today is a short piece of prose. It is a dialogue from myself to Emma. It's also exactly one hundred words long so I feel that it is amazing based solely on that fact. I wrote it in word using a font called 'Parseltongue' which has an amazing effect on how this is read. Unfortunately, wordpress no likey :( So you'll just have to miss out on what I see
Emma? Emma, are you there? I’m feeling strange. What have you done? EMMA? My head is spinning and my hands are shaking. What have you done? There’s fire behind my eyes. I think I’m having a seizure. Did you poison me? I don’t feel right. There’s someone standing over me but they keep moving. I can’t focus! What the hell have you done? Emma? Why is this box empty? The box that says ‘loxalate’. Emma, what did I do? My eyes won’t stay open but my cheek hurts. I think they hit me.
Oh God. Emma, what did I do?
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