break.

It's been awhile since I wrote in this blog. I guess I needed a break after that emotionally charged last blog. I am glad things have settled a bit since then.

I am taking a break from CSUS next semester and going back to city college trying to get things sorted out. I have two passions, one for health and one for art. I am choosing to develop the passion for health and pursuing my public health degree (Specifically, community health) so we'll see how that goes.

My health stuff is still out of control. I went and got the report from the radiologist today. They found two small cysts on my left ovary. They don't think they are serious and will go away in time. But, more importantly they aren't to blame for any of the problems I've been having. Which I guess is mostly a good thing (But I would like something to blame)

And as I deal with all of this, it's hard to not be bitter. To not be angry at God. I want to be a normal twenty-something that lives their life. Not someone who feels sick all the time and is in pain. I felt like I went through so much dealing with my anxiety problems, and as that started to lessen I felt such a weight being lifted up off of me. But it was so short. Now I feel as though I have double the weight on my shoulders. I feel so bound.

Well... On a lighter note, summer school starts monday. I may regret doing this, but I signed up for inorganic chemistry. We'll see how it goes!

lost.

he has the right to change his mind. he has the right to follow his heart.
but it still hurts.

i was unsure of even to write this. i don't want to be bias. i want to be neutral. hopefully, by the time he reads this, he will have made his decision, so it won't have affected him.

i feel hurt. i remember sitting that late night on the computer and finding the stuff on the website and being like, "Oh this sounds perfect!" and be all stoked. Only to find out, it's what he wanted to do too. Awesome, my fears of having to survive epidemiology alone were soothed. We spent the next couple hours on excel going through and planning out our classes together. "You're sure you want to do this?" "yes." "Promise? 'cos I am emailing me Dad" "yes."

I want him to be happy. I want him to go to the school that makes him passionate about what he's interested in. Gives him the best opportunities.

But I also don't want to be alone. I don't want to have to try to take A&P myself. I am being extremely selfish and I am fully aware of it. But going back, I'm not sure I would've followed it all the way through if I would've known he wouldn't have been there throughout the whole thing.

But in my heart, I know it's his decision. If he wants to go to Davis. I get it, if I were in his shoes I would be contemplating the two decisions just as he is.

But alas I am in my own uncomfortable heel-throbbing shoes. And right now I just feel like quitting. I don't want to go to any school.

4/3

sometimes.

i do not know what i am doing.
& it's quite scary.

i want to live out of an old vintage suitcase.

i also want a flatscreen tv to watch the second season of dexter on.

my internal conflict makes it difficult to sleep at night.

i miss finding something i was good at and being in love with it. or at least pretending.

choices.

i am worried i will make the wrong choice.

concerned about $. about time. about babies.
ah. babies. seeing those beautiful bumps all around me. tiny shoes at target with giraffes and umbrellas with blue dots. i hate you hormones.

i want a house and an office with a big L-shaped desk that i can put my mac on. i can spend the hours designing.

but for now, my glands need to stop hurting and my throat needs to stop feeling like sandpaper against my skin.

freedom.

there is something about freedom that is terrifying. i am not used to having the weight being lifted off my shoulders. what is this feeling? this feeling of waking up and not being panicked? knowing that i do not have to spend my life in a field i am not interested in? it's a release. it's freedom.

the world of design is terrifying. but it intrigues me. it's daunting, but in a way that makes me want to jump into it.

j. visited this weekend. we had fun, i laughed so hard that i cried at points. i miss that. even though we don't share secrets always, it's nice to have someone around that i can just be "me." i don't have to put on some mask or filter myself for the most part.

i am writing this entry in my bed, with gatsby laying on my back and huey snuggled up to my side. i love the way it feels to know that animals love you. i can't wait to be a mom someday.

(panic.)

Maybe it's just the right smell. Or seeing something that triggers a memory of the past. Whatever it is, it just sets the little anxious bomb off inside me. I cannot control it. It runs my body, taking control of every movement, every thought. I am no longer myself, but captive to this disease.

I cannot breathe. Why is it so warm in here?

Stomach cramping. Just my usual stomach problems, plus bathroom visits. Not that unusual. But tonight it sends me into panic fits.

I do not want to be alone. But I need to be alone. No one can help me through this. I need to know that I can be okay alone. I detest codependence.

I feel flashbacks of being 17 and laying on the bathroom floor all night, waking up with panic attacks, and going back to sleep. Feeling helpless.

If I had known when it went away that it was only going to be for 2 years, I would've enjoyed those two years a whole lot more. Instead, I spent most of the time trying to fit into a circle that was way too conservative, and the rest of the time waiting by the phone for the 3am phone call of him singing to me.

I would've worn more clothes. Gone out more. Drank more, slept less. Loved instead of waiting around for a rockstar to put aside his selfishness. Followed my dreams.

Now I am 22. But I've never felt so far from my age. I cannot do anything any other 22 year old does. I sit at home on Saturday nights and wait for him to get home. I don't go out, because my stomach hurts all the fucking time. I don't know anyone else. It's not even like I can go back to Chico anymore, because all those friends are gone. They've had babies, gotten married, or moved away (or all of the above)

Fuck this.

nerves.

C. started his new job today. I felt like a mom wishing her kid off for the first day of school. I packed his lunch, wrote a note ("Don't be stressed, one thing at at time! I can't wait to hear all the exciting details!!") I admit, I was nervous when he stepped out the door. I hope it is everything he wants it to be. That he isn't disappointed. It's more than just a job, it's a department he wants to have a career in. It also means that no more part-time work. I really did enjoy all the time off & how much we got to hang out. But I know this is good for him, good for us (esp. financially) I'll look forward to moving and having something to distract me from the fact that my partner works 40 hours + is in school for another 10 live hours as well as an online class.

It's good for me though... Allowing me to create parts of my own life. Walking down the aisles of thriftstores zoning out in the hideous floral patterns of the 90s. Class tonight from 4-6pm. Then I should clean after. It will be weird to not have him home at 9pm, and to eat dinner alone. But Huey will keep me company :)

the future.

Today I posted about my health problems in a Natural Living community on Livejournal. I got over twenty comments back. Some useful... some not. But sometimes it's nice to not feel alone.

But in the end. It hurts me a lot, far more than on a physical level. Yes, I am in pain. Yes, sometimes I have to stop in the middle of the day and come home. But more than that, I feel like I am empty far too often.

I think today is summed up by this quote from The Camera My Mother Gave Me

I wanted my vagina back.

I wanted unpredictability, upset, waywardness. I wanted the world to regain the other dimension that only the vagina can perceive. Because the vagina is the organ that looks to the future. The vagina is potential. It’s not emptiness, it’s possibility, and possibility was exactly what was missing from my life. (Page 127)

changes.

in the next month:
- school starts
- we move
- get a roommate
- sell both our cars
- buy one car to share
- colin may get a new job
- i may get a job

lot's of things happening, which i know is why half of my is freaking out. i have that gnawing-anxious feeling growing inside of my stomach. although i am excited for the change, it also terrifies me. this is probably due to my magical gift of developing incredibly outrageous "what-if" scenarios. I blame my parents' for allowing me to have an imagination. in all seriousness, i truly amaze myself in how much progress i've made. but it's interesting that at the same time, i never feel as though i've made enough. even when i realize how far i've come, and how obstacles keep growing & changing, but i'm still here. 2 years ago, all i had to deal with was just some anxiety issues. now i have health issues + anxiety issues. it makes me feel like my anxiety issues are nothing. even though i am fully aware they make dealing with my health issues much harder. sometimes it's frustrating because although my family is supportive, i feel as though they know so little that goes on. that this is not punishment for disobeying god. this is not an "upset stomach from nerves." the majority of the people i know dealing with this shit are on disability, barely making it through the day at home. it frustrates me that they can't see that. how much progress i've made.

discovery.

tonight i layed on the bathroom floor on top of 2 downcomforters huddled with my dog waiting for the pain to go away. and even when i stopped feeling it in my stomach. the rest of me still hurt.

it is wearing on me. a lot today.

for awhile i just turned off all the lights and listened to basia bulat in the dark. i wanted to not feel anymore. i wanted my body to be lifeless and to remember what it felt like to not hurt all over. to not put a smile on your face and tell people, "oh yes, it's getting better!" when inside, all you can think about is that your heels feel as though they are grinding into the ground, my spine feels as though is is stabbing my lungs, and my stomach is rotating in a circle of nauseousness, bloating, and cramping. but somehow, it is easier to not overwhelm people. to say everything is okay. to say that life is going well. well life isn't right now.

last week was good. the last couple days were the closest to normal ive ever felt. i fucking hated and love my body all at the same time for giving me those. i think sometimes it is eaiser to never have any good days, so at least the bad days are your base. you know no different. but it's like a tease to have good days thrown in there. as if they are there to taunt you.

im almost to the point of saying. dope me up. give me drugs. i dont care. ive resisted medication for so long. i hated effexor because i couldnt feel. i couldnt create art. i couldnt journal. but i rarely do any of that anymore. i dont want to document feeling like this anymore. i really don't feel like feeling much of anything anymore.