My hormones are a huge mess at the moment. After having the Mirena coil fitted a couple of weeks ago I've been ruled by it. It's messing with me so much that I have no idea how I actually feel about anything, and I'm often a nightmare to be around.
I was reading horror stories about it yesterday (huge mistake, I know) and I completely understand how some people have had their careers and relationships ruined by the hormonal storm that takes place inside your body. I've had to work SO HARD at not snapping at people and not being a completely unreasonable bitch. I would definitely be under investigation at work right now and in a tricky place in my relationship if I hadn't spent years already mastering the art of telling the difference between being irrational and being normal, and being able to keep the irrational bullshit inside my own mind most of the time.
It's exhausting me, it's making me crave the worst foods, it's making me volatile, and I hate it. I'm hoping it will settle down soon because it's only been two weeks and I already don't know how much longer I can carry on feeling physically and emotionally like shit all the damn time.
I think the hardest part is that it's taking over my mind. The lines between rational me and irrational me and becoming blurry, and I don't like that. So right now I'm in a position where I'm not comfortable sharing anything I feel because I'm not sure if it's rational or if I'm being stupid. I've become very good at recognising the difference, but it's being compromised by this new and unfamiliar entity at the moment. I don't want to push people away, and even though those closest to me have been incredible in their patience with me I can't keep pushing it.
I've been mentally "okay" for a while now, and I'm pretty upset that I'm taking steps backwards just because of the desire not to become pregnant anytime soon. This sucks so much, and the alternatives suck too, so I guess for now I'm going to have to ride out the shitty part and hope it gets better in time.
Friday, 26 February 2016
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
ouch
(don't read this if talk of ladyparts makes you uncomfortable, Or maybe do because you might learn something about being a real life human instead of a strange robot who is for some reason programmed to remain ignorant about the finer workings of its overlords. It's up to you.)
*****************
today a lady put a little T-shaped piece of plastic up inside my womb.
The purpose is to put up a big ol' drawbridge between the sperm soldiers and the womb castle, and just in case any of the sneaky buggers do get through, make sure the womb ecosystem is not conducive to human life, firstly by being downright inconvenient and a lot of effort, secondly by possibly making sure there's no great tail inside for that sperm to try and tap (ovulation often stops altogether).
As a human who currently screams internally (and from time to time externally) about the idea of being responsible for a whole other human, this sounded like a marvellous idea. Bloody marvellous.
So today, I had the drawbridge erected, and the womb castle is now adequately protected.
HOWEVER
this comes at a price. Many women don't experience much pain, some experience a bit, and some experience a lot. And a few women experience THE WORST PAIN KNOWN TO TERRESTRIAL LIFE. (I was going to say known to man, but man will never know this pain. And I cannot comment on the pain that alien life forms might experience. No one can.) I am in the latter of those categories. My best friend and wife, Emma, who has manufactured, delivered, and is currently the owner of a child, said it sounds like the pain of contractions. She's been the whole damn human supply chain, so she knows this sort of stuff. I sought a second opinion from the internet as it is known for being such a credible source, and other ladies who have had babies AND had the coil fitted are in agreement,
So right now, I am basically having contractions because my body is trying to give birth to a tiny piece of plastic that is designed for me to not give birth.
Here is a list of things that I suppose right now would probably hurt less:
- having my womb chewed out by a crocodile
- stabbing myself in the eye
- putting a pencil so far up my nose it tickles my brain
- a bear attack, the prolonged type
- stubbing all ten of my toes in quick succession
- peeling off all my skin
- one thousand conkers falling on me from a giant tree
- sanding a part of my flesh off down to the bone
- doing some neat embroidery into my skin
*****************
today a lady put a little T-shaped piece of plastic up inside my womb.
The purpose is to put up a big ol' drawbridge between the sperm soldiers and the womb castle, and just in case any of the sneaky buggers do get through, make sure the womb ecosystem is not conducive to human life, firstly by being downright inconvenient and a lot of effort, secondly by possibly making sure there's no great tail inside for that sperm to try and tap (ovulation often stops altogether).
As a human who currently screams internally (and from time to time externally) about the idea of being responsible for a whole other human, this sounded like a marvellous idea. Bloody marvellous.
So today, I had the drawbridge erected, and the womb castle is now adequately protected.
HOWEVER
this comes at a price. Many women don't experience much pain, some experience a bit, and some experience a lot. And a few women experience THE WORST PAIN KNOWN TO TERRESTRIAL LIFE. (I was going to say known to man, but man will never know this pain. And I cannot comment on the pain that alien life forms might experience. No one can.) I am in the latter of those categories. My best friend and wife, Emma, who has manufactured, delivered, and is currently the owner of a child, said it sounds like the pain of contractions. She's been the whole damn human supply chain, so she knows this sort of stuff. I sought a second opinion from the internet as it is known for being such a credible source, and other ladies who have had babies AND had the coil fitted are in agreement,
So right now, I am basically having contractions because my body is trying to give birth to a tiny piece of plastic that is designed for me to not give birth.
Here is a list of things that I suppose right now would probably hurt less:
- having my womb chewed out by a crocodile
- stabbing myself in the eye
- putting a pencil so far up my nose it tickles my brain
- a bear attack, the prolonged type
- stubbing all ten of my toes in quick succession
- peeling off all my skin
- one thousand conkers falling on me from a giant tree
- sanding a part of my flesh off down to the bone
- doing some neat embroidery into my skin
Wednesday, 9 December 2015
take me to the docks, there's a ship without a name
it's sailing to the middle of the sea.
...
I'm listening to sad songs and I'm not so sure why, because I'm not sad. I suppose you don't need to be sad to listen to sad songs. Isn't it amazing how music can have emotions? Like, certain sounds and certain melodies are just... sadder than others. I get how in like a really basic music theory kind of way, but I don't really understand why those combinations of sounds incite a certain feeling within most people.
There are people who just don't care for music at all. It makes them feel nothing.
Anyway. Imagine if you could just sail to the middle of sea and just... stay there. Or go to the moon.
Does it make anyone else sad that they will never go to the moon?
I think I have a hankering to just be not here... like, I'm not unhappy, I'm just bored of this city I suppose. I feel restless. But the kind of restless when you kinda want to go for a run, but then you remember that you're lazy and unfit and maybe staying in bed would be easier and waaaaaaaaay more comfortable.
Even bed gives me a backache sometimes though if I stay in it too long.
Southampton, you have given my life a backache.
...
I'm listening to sad songs and I'm not so sure why, because I'm not sad. I suppose you don't need to be sad to listen to sad songs. Isn't it amazing how music can have emotions? Like, certain sounds and certain melodies are just... sadder than others. I get how in like a really basic music theory kind of way, but I don't really understand why those combinations of sounds incite a certain feeling within most people.
There are people who just don't care for music at all. It makes them feel nothing.
Anyway. Imagine if you could just sail to the middle of sea and just... stay there. Or go to the moon.
Does it make anyone else sad that they will never go to the moon?
I think I have a hankering to just be not here... like, I'm not unhappy, I'm just bored of this city I suppose. I feel restless. But the kind of restless when you kinda want to go for a run, but then you remember that you're lazy and unfit and maybe staying in bed would be easier and waaaaaaaaay more comfortable.
Even bed gives me a backache sometimes though if I stay in it too long.
Southampton, you have given my life a backache.
Tuesday, 1 December 2015
FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH
Here are some blurry pictures of fish from the sea life centre.
Louise and I went to Sea Life after dark, where you go there in the evening and there is alcohol. It was AMAZING. I want to do it again.
Louise and I went to Sea Life after dark, where you go there in the evening and there is alcohol. It was AMAZING. I want to do it again.
Tuesday, 3 November 2015
debauchery
After a long weekend of too much fun, it's finally catching up with this old lady. I never got the hangover I deserved after Friday, so I can't really complain, though I have woken up feeling a bit naff this morning.
I have had an EXCELLENT weekend. Ween has been amazing. Em and I ended up at a house party of one of our friends on Friday night, on a complete whim, where much drinking happened and from the sound of it (I don't necessarily remember everything) I embraced my inner weird amongst a whole load of strangers.
It's very fortunate that I didn't get the hangover I deserved, because the next day was Letti's ween party, in which we dressed up as Telefrancais characters:
Here we are as Ananas, squellette, and Mr Pourquoi.
And here is Mr Pourquoi for reference.
We watched many movies, a couple of which gave me the MEGA HEEBS. Such heebs oh my goodness. And we had a fire in the chiminea, and ate many many foods. I had a very lovely time n_n
So today is my final day off work before I go back for all of TWO days, before another couple of days off for my best bean Beckoi's birthday. Today I am going to do sensible things such as:
Think that's all. Hopefully I'll have a very sensible day, go to bed at a reasonable time, and wake up fresh for work tomorrow.
Wish me luck, hahahahah.
I have had an EXCELLENT weekend. Ween has been amazing. Em and I ended up at a house party of one of our friends on Friday night, on a complete whim, where much drinking happened and from the sound of it (I don't necessarily remember everything) I embraced my inner weird amongst a whole load of strangers.
It's very fortunate that I didn't get the hangover I deserved, because the next day was Letti's ween party, in which we dressed up as Telefrancais characters:
We watched many movies, a couple of which gave me the MEGA HEEBS. Such heebs oh my goodness. And we had a fire in the chiminea, and ate many many foods. I had a very lovely time n_n
So today is my final day off work before I go back for all of TWO days, before another couple of days off for my best bean Beckoi's birthday. Today I am going to do sensible things such as:
- make a christmas cake
- finish fixing Smudge's cat scratcher
- go to the shop for items to do the previous two things, such as glue sticks for the glue gun, and sherry for the cake.
- pop down the allotment and lay some ground sheet to stop the weeds coming back, and check on my garlics
- some cross stitch
- paint my gross nails
- write more for NaNoWriMo
Think that's all. Hopefully I'll have a very sensible day, go to bed at a reasonable time, and wake up fresh for work tomorrow.
Wish me luck, hahahahah.
Monday, 2 November 2015
i won't let you close enough to hurt me
it's not a secret, I've been single a while now. 90% by choice.
I've come to realise through a culmination of many different happenings that I have become one of those people who is terrified of commitment.
Whenever anything gets even a hint of serious or of wanting to head that way, I bolt.
Relationships are hard. Anything where you're putting at least a portion of your happiness into someone else's hands makes you vulnerable, and I'm not sure I can do that anymore. I can't leave myself that open to getting hurt by someone, or even to hurting someone else. I guess my track record leans more towards me hurting other people, but I'm not a bad person so it still sucked to have to do that. In fact it was bloody awful.
It's so bloody terrifying. I mean, the next person I'm with will either be the person I spend the rest of my life with, or the next breakup. Both of those things make me want to go to bed and hibernate so I don't have to think about it.
I can't be done with relationships, I'm only 25. I have plenty of time to figure this out. It's just real scary right now. And I think that the process of figuring it out will be a combination of me figuring myself out (I've already been doing a lot of that to be honest), and finding someone who is just.... right. Someone I don't want to bolt from, and who doesn't want to bolt from me. I guess that's hard too. A lot of people my age are going through a similar thing; we've all had serious relationships now, and most of us have had our hearts broken or broken a few hearts. It's a difficult thing to figure out when you've been brought up on the ideal that happily ever after is what you're looking for, and that Prince Charming will show up some day. That's not how it works at all.
I guess we're all just trying to work it out, and one day there will be someone worth taking the risk for, someone I'll be okay making myself vulnerable for. And they'll feel the same.
Relationships are hard. Anything where you're putting at least a portion of your happiness into someone else's hands makes you vulnerable, and I'm not sure I can do that anymore. I can't leave myself that open to getting hurt by someone, or even to hurting someone else. I guess my track record leans more towards me hurting other people, but I'm not a bad person so it still sucked to have to do that. In fact it was bloody awful.
It's so bloody terrifying. I mean, the next person I'm with will either be the person I spend the rest of my life with, or the next breakup. Both of those things make me want to go to bed and hibernate so I don't have to think about it.
I can't be done with relationships, I'm only 25. I have plenty of time to figure this out. It's just real scary right now. And I think that the process of figuring it out will be a combination of me figuring myself out (I've already been doing a lot of that to be honest), and finding someone who is just.... right. Someone I don't want to bolt from, and who doesn't want to bolt from me. I guess that's hard too. A lot of people my age are going through a similar thing; we've all had serious relationships now, and most of us have had our hearts broken or broken a few hearts. It's a difficult thing to figure out when you've been brought up on the ideal that happily ever after is what you're looking for, and that Prince Charming will show up some day. That's not how it works at all.
I guess we're all just trying to work it out, and one day there will be someone worth taking the risk for, someone I'll be okay making myself vulnerable for. And they'll feel the same.
Monday, 19 October 2015
rational me vs. irrational me
I guess I'm fortunate in that I understand the difference between the two. But it still sucks when irrational me is screaming inside my ear all the time.
Learning to love oneself is a long and hard journey, and I am getting there slowly. But in the meantime, here are a few examples of how differently rational me and irrational me perceive simple things that other people don't think twice about saying.
"You have a lovely figure"
Rational me: I suppose I do carry my weight pretty well, and big butts are in fashion lately.
IRRATIONAL ME: you mean you see my fat, and you know I'm insecure enough to be flattered by that. I'm just about attractive enough to be worth flattering, but you - MAN - think you can "win me over" by making me "feel better" about something you can recognise I'm incredibly insecure about. Fuck You.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
Rational me: oh, neat, free drink. And I suppose this guy must think I'm kinda attractive I suppose.
IRRATIONAL ME: This guy must think I look EASY. Obviously I'm so gross that I must be insecure and an easy lay. Fuck Off.
"Are you okay, you always want dessert!"
Rational me: hah, they're just trying to be funny and sociable i guess
IRRATIONAL ME: You're a fatty, of course you want dessert. Stop trying to be polite and just carry on stuffing food into your ugly FAT FACE.
"I like you, you're pretty"
Rational me: thanks, I'm flattered.
IRRATIONAL ME: You think I'm pretty? What is it you actually want? You want to get your end away then ditch me? Screw You. Also, what the hell? What about all my other potential attributes? Do they mean nothing because I'm a woman and all that matters is how I look? You obviously see me as emotionally vulnerable. Screw. You.
"I like you as a friend"
Rational me: that's okay, guys and girls can be friend. I like that, actually, it takes away the pressure that anyone is every expecting anything more. We can be good friends because I believe we're on the same page.
IRRATIONAL ME: what am I doing wrong? Why does nobody think I'm attractive anymore? It must be because I'm fat and weird. They always tell you to be yourself but now I am and nobody wants to be with me. Myself id just gross and unattractive and too weird even for people who I consider to be friends. I Suck.
"Are you sure you don't mind?"
Rational me: they're just looking out for me. I don't mind.
IRRATIONAL ME: Do they not trust me to say so if I don't mind? Do they really think I'm so MEEK that I don't have the fucking balls to say so when I have an opinion? Fucking Really?
Those are just a few. Yes, I fit the shit stereotype that women overthink everything. It's because that's how we were raised. We're never good enough. Whatever we do it's always wrong. We're told all our lives that we need to look a certain way, now the body positive movement is on the rise and we're being fired at from the other side; we're being told that if we haven't mastered the art of being confident with who we are and loving ourselves, we're doing something wrong. So screw me. 25 years I've had the media and school bullies and society and whoever the hell else telling me I'm not pretty enough, and now I'm made to feel ashamed that I feel that way. I don't "love myself" enough. Screw you. I'm trying, it's an uphill struggle but I am trying. And at least I can recognise now when irrational me is taking over and hopefully rational me can prevail. Most of the time.
Learning to love oneself is a long and hard journey, and I am getting there slowly. But in the meantime, here are a few examples of how differently rational me and irrational me perceive simple things that other people don't think twice about saying.
"You have a lovely figure"
Rational me: I suppose I do carry my weight pretty well, and big butts are in fashion lately.
IRRATIONAL ME: you mean you see my fat, and you know I'm insecure enough to be flattered by that. I'm just about attractive enough to be worth flattering, but you - MAN - think you can "win me over" by making me "feel better" about something you can recognise I'm incredibly insecure about. Fuck You.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
Rational me: oh, neat, free drink. And I suppose this guy must think I'm kinda attractive I suppose.
IRRATIONAL ME: This guy must think I look EASY. Obviously I'm so gross that I must be insecure and an easy lay. Fuck Off.
"Are you okay, you always want dessert!"
Rational me: hah, they're just trying to be funny and sociable i guess
IRRATIONAL ME: You're a fatty, of course you want dessert. Stop trying to be polite and just carry on stuffing food into your ugly FAT FACE.
"I like you, you're pretty"
Rational me: thanks, I'm flattered.
IRRATIONAL ME: You think I'm pretty? What is it you actually want? You want to get your end away then ditch me? Screw You. Also, what the hell? What about all my other potential attributes? Do they mean nothing because I'm a woman and all that matters is how I look? You obviously see me as emotionally vulnerable. Screw. You.
"I like you as a friend"
Rational me: that's okay, guys and girls can be friend. I like that, actually, it takes away the pressure that anyone is every expecting anything more. We can be good friends because I believe we're on the same page.
IRRATIONAL ME: what am I doing wrong? Why does nobody think I'm attractive anymore? It must be because I'm fat and weird. They always tell you to be yourself but now I am and nobody wants to be with me. Myself id just gross and unattractive and too weird even for people who I consider to be friends. I Suck.
"Are you sure you don't mind?"
Rational me: they're just looking out for me. I don't mind.
IRRATIONAL ME: Do they not trust me to say so if I don't mind? Do they really think I'm so MEEK that I don't have the fucking balls to say so when I have an opinion? Fucking Really?
Those are just a few. Yes, I fit the shit stereotype that women overthink everything. It's because that's how we were raised. We're never good enough. Whatever we do it's always wrong. We're told all our lives that we need to look a certain way, now the body positive movement is on the rise and we're being fired at from the other side; we're being told that if we haven't mastered the art of being confident with who we are and loving ourselves, we're doing something wrong. So screw me. 25 years I've had the media and school bullies and society and whoever the hell else telling me I'm not pretty enough, and now I'm made to feel ashamed that I feel that way. I don't "love myself" enough. Screw you. I'm trying, it's an uphill struggle but I am trying. And at least I can recognise now when irrational me is taking over and hopefully rational me can prevail. Most of the time.
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