What Kind of Life is That?

Friendships are something that can make or break your day. Good friendships are hard to find, and REAL friendships are harder. Friendships with people who don’t hurt you, whether intentional or not, are almost impossible to find. I find myself questioning my friendship with those around me who have no understanding of where I come from. I was born and raised in a polygamist family, and I Have to admit that most rumors about polygamy are true. I have yet to want to get into the details, but I did not have the best childhood. I have large gaps in my memory, which I can only assume exist due to my brain deciding that it is best if I forget. Sure thing, brain! No argument there. Suppress away! 6a00d834520b4b69e201156e49b4b4970c I have entered into 5 relationships, 4 of which were terrible and abusive on one level or another. The 5th I am still trying to figure out how to recover from, and what to sort out. I am really good at getting myself into crappy situations, but on that note, I am also good at recognizing they are bad and getting out of them. It may take me a few years, but I got this! I have decided to look back at my failures and accomplishments as a slew of events that were to get me where I am now. Regrets? Of course. Trying to let go of those regrets? Absolutely.

Recently I have been examining my choice of friendships. There are some that have been around from the time I was child, a teenager, a young adult, and ones that are still fresh. I have found that my recently developed friendships are likely not as solid or “untainted” as I had thought. Someone I have trusted with secrets, pain, joy, etc has recently betrayed me, and I really have no urge to forgive them. Not that I am angry with them per say, however the idea that a person presents who they are as a friend to my face as one thing, and behind my back as another does little for my happiness and trust. If words against me are being used without my knowledge, words that I shared in confidence, I truly have no want to share such private things with them again. My past, present, and future personal privacy is not something I want broken. I am quite the open book, so when I choose to share something with you that I don’t share with others, you should probably keep that information in confidence.

I have so many things going on in my life right now, and adding distrust is not one that I would prefer to have. I am sure nobody does, but with all of the ailments (both medical and emotional) that I have I seem to feel an extra sting at the knowledge that bad words have been said about me. I do not consider myself a bad person, and though I have done many things wrong (and even cruel – I am only human) I am the first to admit my fault and pursue correction. healthy_gossip I do not break the trust of others. I do not use what they told me against them behind their back, however pretend that I am innocent. I do not feign friendship. So when this is done to me, I can’t help but step back and once again wonder what it is about me that made me so trusting of this one particular person. I have been fooled so many times by the charismatic and “seemingly” honest person, only to find they are cruel and truly the most dishonest of sorts. I guess it can play into the fact that I don’t understand this thought process. I will, however say, that I have chosen to keep my current feelings at bay and simply stop sharing the things that I would not share with the average person. I know that addressing this behavior will do nothing but harm, and it is not my place to try to change anyone. I will accept how they are, and move on. I accept that they will likely fade out of my life one day, and it won’t make much of a difference. I also accept that they may completely turn on me one day, so the less ammo I give them, the better. I can’t avoid them in my day to day life, so I will avoid the subject instead.

On an ending note, with all of the occurrences lately I find myself becoming more and more depressed. I am not one who likes to admit failure or defeat, so I tend to let things pile up so much that they start to weigh me down and I have a harder time recovering. This is such the case now. I am sad. I am incredibly unhappy, though there are things that still bring joy to my life. It is not joyless, I simply feel worn out, overwhelmed, and sad. My illnesses, the lack of support I see around me more and more, and the burdens I carry as a working single mother. I am not a ‘pity whore’, but my life is incredibly hard. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and it is not showing any signs of improvement. The ailments that bring me woe ARE my life. It is what my life consists of every day. They say that happiness is not a situation, it is an attitude.. but I find it increasingly hard to find self motivation and keep a happy outlook when things are so exhausting. When life it so exhausting. When what I deal with on a daily basis would be incredibly hard for a healthy person of my age, let alone someone with my illnesses. When I realize that those around me I thought believed and supported me.. doubt and belittle me behind my back.

What kind of life is that?


The Enemy of All Things Good…

Anxiety. This is the enemy of all things good. Feeling anxious about anything can lead to a domino effect of anxiety beyond control! Today my anxiety is high. I have been so sick recently, and I have been trying to ignore it. I wonder if it is all in my head like some people are trying to convince me it is. Does my mind create this pain because I think it is there, or does my brain create it on it’s own and I am just responding? I can’t tell what is causing this flare, or what it is really effecting. I want to sleep for days, but I am in too much pain to wind down. If I take pain meds, my body is still buzzing from the nerves, and I can’t relax. I must move. Adjust. Change position and get comfortable. My hands hurt. Feet. Now it’s my knees. My elbows. New nodules in my hand. Only things that I notice, and people don’t see any difference. These are not my hands. These are not my feet. This is not how my body looks. This is a completely foreign place I live, and it continues to change without warning.

Due to the feelings I have been having, and the flare that seems to just be spreading through my entire form, I finally made an appointment with a Rheumatologist. 42-23789836_rf-d-ar2 (1) I am both hopeful, but anxious as hell. What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he tells me the same thing I have been told all along and he can’t help me? I am so afraid of what will happen. Recently I went back to my gyno due to severe cramps and other menstrual issues. Ultrasound. Blood work. Anxiety. What did we find? Small cysts on both ovaries, and a slightly thicker endometrium than normal. ALMOST endometriosis. Nothing they can do for now except put me on small bursts of birth control and hope it helps. I have issues with birth control. I have EVERY side effect, and even went into early menopause because of one. My hair started falling out at age 27. I was not happy. I am NOT doing that again. So what can we do at this time? Nothing.

On top of all this stress, my children are ALL going through new phases. My 7 year old has become a klepto. My 13 year old is teenage drama up the WAZOO! My 4 year old is going through a hitting and kicking phase. That kid can kick some ASS. None of any of this is good. This results in extra work from my already exhausted body and mind. I am all alone, with nobody to help me teach babies what they should and should not do. I am doing the best I can, but the results are slower. All the while I am getting meetings with the junior high. Returning items and making the child apologize. Reports from the babysitter on the violent actions of my giant toddler. In short, it is rough.

two-girls-whisperingThere has been whispers going on all around me. Whispers about my illness, how I handle my kids, my life, my SEX life. I made the mistake of sleeping with a coworker a few weeks ago. (Sorry, this man is sexy as fack) He made the mistake of telling the biggest mouth in the office, who then went to my friend and informed her he knew. The chatter isn’t bad, but I hate it. To have people look me straight in the eye and then turn around and talk about what I do and do not do in my spare time is beyond annoying. I kinda wanna punch the world in the face right now. Then cry. And hide. Be alone, but somehow snuggled at the same time. Do they make adult sized swaddle blankets soaked in men’s cologne. Instead of a heartbeat, just a soothing voice saying, “It’s ok! You can do this. Shhhhhh… don’t worry. This too shall pass. You are loved.”

No. So, anxiety is high today. My hope is low. I want to go home, yet I have 4 more hours here and then the chaos that is my family. Love. Nothing but love for them.. but what about love for me? When is it my turn?

You Should…

“That’s still going on?”

“Have you tried…?”

“Have you seen a Dr?”

“You should talk to your Dr about that.”

When you have a chronic illness, you have heard these remarks, and they get old fast. We have all held our tongues; smiled, nodded, and agreed. Even thanked people for their help and input. None of these are helpful in the slightest, as I know my body, and when things are wrong I will go see my Dr. A low grade fever for three days is not a Doctorable offense. New liquid filled cysts, and lumps in uncomfortable places is not something to rush to the nearest ER about. Ever woken up in a pool of your own blood? I sure have, and did I rush off to my Dr? No. Because the color, consistency, and amount did not qualify as something that I personally need to rush off and spend my hard earned money on another, “Just keep taking your meds, and try not to push yourself that hard again. If the bleeding blah blah blah blah!” Heard it all.

This has been another rough week for me, as I am sure you could have guessed by my last blog post. I have run fevers, thrown up, bled from every possible orifice that can bleed without threatening death, and woke up in so much pain, it took all my might not to scream at the top of my lungs. I have left epsom salt bath water black, had less than 20 hours sleep in the last 6 days, and have been popping pain meds left and right. massage-picture-fibro I called in an emergency 90 minute massage due to my muscles being SO tight, I could barely turn my head. I was an hour late to a date, which did not go so well. (He was religious, had no kids and wanted some. I am none of the above.) I have been late to work every day this week. Missed appointments. Forgotten about trainings. Etc. I can’t help but feel like such a failure some weeks, and though I am STILL going strong, I do feel a bit like a failure.

This week I got into the worst fight I have ever had with any of my siblings. My sister, who we will refer to as Delusional Hippy, got on my very last nerve. She has been poking at me for awhile, and I finally had enough. The worst part is that she doesn’t realize she is doing it. She comments on my photos, statuses, and other such social media outlets with such cruel implications hidden in innocent text. She recently implied that in order for me not to end up alone I need to lower my expectations and standards for a potential spouse. Also, there is a possibility that I will never find someone and will end up alone. She told me I needed to be ok with the possibility that there isn’t someone out there for me. O_o She said, “You seem to think you are incomplete without a man.” – Now, keep in mind that this is my sister who is married to a convicted felon who used to harass me about having sex with him. He pursued me for about 8 years, starting when I was about 13. Not a big fan of this man. He is currently in prison for the 3rd time. DH has not dated much, and is often described as ‘homely’. I am not going to toot my own horn, but even with the extra weight, skin problems, and chronic illnesses, I am still quite the looker. It is hard for me to even fathom that there isn’t someone out there who wants what I want. There is nothing wrong with wanting a family, and that doesn’t make me desperate or incomplete. I have a goal of sharing the love I have, and making a life for me and my girls. My sister and I had a blowout. With-physical-pain-you-can-pinpoint-a-problem-and-seek-the-appropriate-treatment-as-with-a-wound-or-a-broken-bone-but-it-is-vastly-more-difficult-to-pinpoint-the-cause-of-emotional-pain. I blocked her on 3 facebook accounts before she went to texting. One thing anyone who knows me understands is that if I want to be left alone, you back off. You let me be. She knew this, and pushed me to my brink. I snapped, and I tore into her like there was no tomorrow. It did not go well, and I have been sick ever since. Extra sick.

People tend to forget that emotional turmoil is also going to have a negative effect for the chronically ill. Stress causes so much pain, it is ridiculous. I broke out with 17 cysts, ranging from the size of a pea to silver dollar. Arm pits, face, neck, legs, etc. They are everywhere. Here I am emotionally and physically ill over something as silly as me being alone and sad. Being judged by a woman who is neglectful of her children, and needs of everyone but herself and her husband. She is inconsiderate, and rude, however I have always brushed it off as her personality. She is who she is and you take it with a grain of salt. I have always loved and supporter her in all her decisions. Want to marry a felon I am not really fond of? Ok. Still love you, keeping my mouth shut. If he makes you happy, and you are confident in your decision, who am I to tell you otherwise? Want to ignore the fact that your children only snack all day, every day and do not have a full nutritional diet at home? Ok. I expressed my concerns, she brushed them off. I watch my niece and nephews, and make sure they are properly dressed for the weather and eat when at my house. She is not physically abusive, and her children love her. I will express my concerns when they seem applicable, otherwise I will respect her parenting ways. It is not my direct business, and she is allowed to run her home as she pleases, just as I am. But when you step in and tell me that because of my VALUES, and my STANDARDS, I am going to be alone. As if someone of that caliber would never have interest in someone like me. How dare you?

“You are always sick. You seem sad.” – Of course I am sad! Being sick is sad!

article-2218035-1583EAED000005DC-685_634x423 “You know that a man won’t fix your illness.” – I am aware of this. Nothing can ‘fix’ my illness. But I want to share what I can with someone, and show my girls that love can blossom out of the worst of situations. Also, I think that it would be a lot easier to make it up my stairs when I am super sick if I had some nice big arms assisting me in my journey.

“You need to understand that marriage has ups and downs. It’s not all good.” – What. In. The. Good. Hell? Are you kidding me? Please.. just… I am not even going to address this one, as this is just a joke that as a divorced 29 yr old woman who has been in MORE of a married relationship in the last 2 years with a man I never lived with than she has.

So, here I am…. sick, tired, and getting unwanted advice on not only my health, but also my love life. Basically feeling like those around me feel I am unable to properly determine when I need to see a Dr, or how to care for my own broken body. Nor am I capable of creating a happy marriage one day because I have high standards, and I am too sick to expect someone of that caliber to be interested in me. Perhaps I should lower my expectations and marry a felon. Seems like someone like that might ACTUALLY be interested in me, and fill that empty part of me that is ‘incomplete without a man’. Because, you know.. I am not complete without a penis, but I should probably accept that it is likely I will never find one that will put up with my shitty life.

Umm.. I may or may not be bitter this week, and angry. Sitting at the front desk in such pain I am thinking it would be better to be numb from the neck down. My head is throbbing on the right side, vision is blurry, and my right index finger is swelling. I am not sure if the emotions caused the flare, or the flare caused the emotions, but either way it is shitty. Either way this week was awful. I can’t take the pain meds that would kill this pain, as they will knock me out. I am beat, and I have an entirely full weekend ahead of me. This is not a good mix…

I apologize for this blog. It is crazy, all over the place, but I needed to vent. Thank you for not judging the crap out of me.

Nobody Deserves This…

I honestly have no idea where to start on this post. I have been sitting in front of my laptop for ten minutes now just staring at my screen. My whole body aches, I have no voice, my lungs are killing me, and I just threw up.. again.. due to having multiple bugs floating around my office. Heating pad on my right knee (always), and warm fuzzy socks on my aching feet. I just keep thinking how unfair my life is. How unfair it is that I have to do this alone, and be a person I barely have enough strength to be. I feel like I have been strong for so long, there are expectations set in place that I am having a hard time living up to some days. I have been called “Super Mom” so many times, but I just don’t feel like I am as super as I can be. I know I can be more patient, but on days like today where I can barely function, it is just so hard to have patience with anyone. I feel so bad knowing my kids could have a better me, but I can’t muster up the strength to be that mom.

Today at work Jackhole freaked out on me again, and was extra rude.. again. Last Thursday I was almost positive he was going to get fired, as he had freaked out SCREAMING at a client and then at the consultant who had sold said client. It was an outburst that was BEYOND inappropriate, and he just got a slap on the wrist for it. Whatever. Man-Yelling But today he was extra Jackholish to me over something so very simple, it made no sense to argue. He was loud, and cocky. Talked down to me in front of both of our teams, and even went storming off to my boss. Imagine Dwight from The Office, only a real life version of him, and not funny at all. That is what it reminds me of. (I have jokingly started calling my boss “Michael”, to which he just rolls his eyes.) We had to sit down and have a meeting over this silly little battle, of which his argument had neither rhyme nor reason. My boss obviously agreed with me, (Not because we get along, but because I was right. He is the first to tell me when I am being silly.) and Jackhole went about his personal stomping ways, while I went off to train his wife (YES! Jackhole’s wife) on how to do proper website audits so she can join my audit team. I really like Jackhole’s wife, and I am very careful to never say anything negative about him to her, nor talk down about him to anyone who could be negatively affected by it in an unprofessional manner. He, on the other hand, does not give me the same respect and often likes to tell co-workers about how incompetent I am, and I have had ENOUGH.

This man gets away with mistreating others left and right, and with no remorse. Nobody has filed any official complaints, though many MANY people vent their frustrations of his ill treatment, and even do so to our boss. They have chosen to just take it with a grain of salt, and try to ignore him. I know I have had to be talked down about filing multiple complaints before, and only because my boss was trying to work with him to be more pleasant to work with. Each time he did, it would be ok for a day or two, and then it would go back to how it was. I do not need to be watched while I hobble off to the bathroom. yelling He does not need to get up from his desk and wander around pretending to get a drink or something else before he locates me. This man has his nose stuck so far up my ass, I swear he can tell I have intestinal issues before I do. Hell, maybe he is the cause of them. I just hate having to text the front desk to let them know I am sick in the bathroom again in case Jackhole goes wandering around and tattles to my boss that I have been up from my desk for 20 minutes during Zone time. DUDE! You tell me that if you are bleeding from your colon that you would sit for the next hour waiting for Zone time to end. That stuff is not fun, and I cannot time my illness! Just as my boss said, he doesn’t care how many times I have to run to the bathroom, as long as I am there and getting my work done, he is happy. But having this jerk lean back and listen to every.. little.. conversation I have. Every little word I speak. EVERY COMMENT I MAKE… I just can’t handle it anymore. He has caused my work area to be a hostile environment, and I no longer care about the repercussions, I am going to HR and filing a complaint.

Now, this is the same man that harasses half of the office, it is not just me. He is cruel, and menacing for no reason. He has ZERO tact when it comes to working with others in the office, and not one sales rep wants their clients to go to him. They BEG for their clients to go to others, so despite the fact that I have training, and website audits, I have been taking more and more clients. He is also not getting new clients right now due to his outburst on one last week. Come on, dude.. you hang up on a client long before you scream at them. That is just NOT good business practice right there. I am too sick, too tired, and too good at what I do to be treated this way. The other people in the office do not deserve it one bit either. I really hope this doesn’t blow up in my face, but I am going to have to file this complaint. I need something to change, and soon. Otherwise, I am going to have to accept a role in another department, or somewhere else where I won’t have to deal with this kind of treatment. Nobody deserves this… Nobody deserves what I have. Nobody deserves how he treats me. The difference is that one is an autoimmune disease, and one is an asshole.

Inside Out…

Tonight is one of those nights that I am feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was my youngest’s birthday, however we had her party over the weekend, so nothing truly special went on. She got to pick what we watched before bed, and I let her have cake for dinner. Four year olds love cake for dinner. I let it slide. However, that is not why I am feeling low. I feel down due to another reminder of my painful reality. The reality that is inside me, that controls the world around me. The broken, damaged, and corrupt inside.

I had little to eat today, as I had over done it over the weekend and caused myself so much intestinal pain I could barely move yesterday. I ended up with intestinal bleeding again, and this meant for multiple trips to the bathroom. There is something so depressing about such abnormal things becoming such a normal thing in my life. Excessive bleeding from any orifice should (and would) be alarming to the average person, but to me it has become a common thing. This has been happening more and more with me, and any time I over do it in any way, I begin to bleed. Work. Playing around with my kids. Lifting, moving things. Anything that involves exerting myself causes my to bleed. This is nothing short of depressing, and I can tell you that tonight I am feeling it.

This morning I was not only bleeding, but I was also quite swollen. My eyes were puffy, my fingers the size of sausages, and my arms were splotchy from the pressure of the edema. I noticed a new cyst on my nose, and the remains of the cold sore that broke out over night, and took over what feels like my entire bottom lip. It hurts to move, to eat, to even speak, but off to work I went. sleep_disorder I did consider not going into work for a few minutes, but reminding myself that the woman who runs the Human Resources has an odd vendetta against me and without hitting my 40 hours in a week, she wouldn’t think twice about pulling my insurance out from under me. SNAP! My impression of that awful woman yanking away the only thing keeping me afloat at this point. I understand that it is a technicality, and she isn’t completely responsible, but she is a very cold and harsh woman, thus causing the very thought of missing work and having to deal with her more unbearable than dealing with the pain. Put on a smile, and get out the door! A little extra makeup will cover the bags under your eyes, and the new hair color will mask any other possible changes that are noticeable.

I was right. Nobody noticed, and it is not as if I want them to. I know I am a downer when I talk about my illnesses. I know I am a downer when my 10 bottles of pills fall out of my purse at work, or I have to take my pills at my desk. I know people look at me and think, “What a hypochondriac.” I don’t think people realize what it takes to get up every day and do this. To put a smile on my face. To get myself, and two other people prepared to face the world each morning; To get in my car and actually make it to the three locations I must hit before work. I don’t exactly want them to, but I also don’t want them to look at me and think that I am ok. I don’t want either. I don’t want to be looked at differently, but I don’t want my struggles to be brushed off.

Tonight I am feeling heavy. Sad. Fuck it, tonight I am really really sad and I very much hate this body I am living in. Tonight I can feel the pain all over. I can feel the sores, I can feel the muscle pain, I can feel my insides fighting against my entire body. I CAN FEEL THE DECAY.. and it is making me very sad. Very, very sad.

I am sad inside and out.

Admitting defeat..

Sometimes I forget that it is ok to accept and admit defeat. It is pushed so hard on people to “stay strong” and “never give up” that people feel like a failure when they admit they are not able to do something, myself included. I have been in such a denial of my inability to do certain things, that I think I am just making myself worse some days. This week has been one of which many pleasant things have happened (spending time with my ‘Disgruntled White Guy’, which I can go into later), but I have also been so emotionally and mentally busy at work, it’s been draining. I often feel like being physically drained after sitting at my desk all day is so silly. I get up periodically to keep my joints from stiffening. I stretch and I lean, letting my muscles feel change for a bit, then go back to work. However there is something else that I should really accept, and it is that emotional and mental strain can drain you physically as well. The stress of keeping my clients happy, as well as dealing with managing my team, website audits, and addressing issues as they arise (which, let’s face it, Google changes daily) can, and has, put strain on my body as well as my mind. Yesterday was a long day of dealing with clients who seem to forget that they know nothing when it comes to this industry, and I have worked hard to stay up to date and be as much of an expert as I can. head-on-desk It can be quite frustrating when you are being told how to do your job from a person that can’t even log into their website without help. There are oft times where I have literally wanted to bang my head on my desk.

Yesterday was nothing short of a rough day. Not only was it snowing non stop, which was killing my joints and causing almost tear worthy bone pain, I was running audit after audit, and research for my clients, as well as for others. I was up and down from my desk all day with small issues that needed to be addressed. I am almost positive that I have a sinus infection, but I am trying to treat it with a neti-pot, and hoping the small dose of doxycycline that I am on will assist in stopping it from getting too bad. Cross your fingers for me. I really don’t want to spend the money to see my Dr again, and I REALLY don’t want to add to the pills I am already taking. My knees were on strike, my back was aching, and my eyes were dry. I have a headache almost daily, which I can handle, but with the sinus pain and the stress of having to explain why even though Google is a non stop crawling algorithm, they are not ranking on the first page yet, it was extra harsh. I can’t help but want to go “Because your site sucks, you are not well known online, and it takes time to build a reputation, Moron!! Let me do my fucking job and you just go plunge a toilet like a good little plumber!”, but I am almost positive I would get fired. That would just add more stress to the already complicated life of this Positive Pessimist!

Once I was home I immediately half laid on my couch, as my sleeping 13 year old shifted over to let me in. My legs ached, my head pounded, and my feet felt like they were splitting in half. The bone pain throbbed through my thighs, and my back screamed in agony. I guess it did not like the half laying down position. As I convinced my mini me to move off the couch so I could let my body recover, stretching out in the full laying position, she asked me the question nobody in such pain wants to hear. “What’s for dinner?” EFF! Tonight I was supposed to go shopping, not only for groceries, but for my little girl’s birthday presents. My littlest girl is turning 4 on Monday, but we are having her party on Saturday. It was now Thursday night. Sitting up I considered running to the store, however my body immediately objected. Pain shooting through my arms, legs, feet, and fingers while my head pounded and a whirl of dizziness started to take over I succumbed to the pain and laid back down. Feeling a small child climb on top of me, I screamed out in pain. When I am sick, and feeling ill my little girls like to lay with me to help me feel better. Most times we are get comfortable fairly quick, and it is not an issue. However today every little touch felt like hot burning coals on my skin, sending pain shooting in all directions! My poor little girl jumped off me while tears ran down her face. little-girl-crying3 She was only trying to help mommy, and here I am screaming out and scaring the poor girl. As much as I wanted to get up, wrap my arms around her and make her better, my body simply would not move. All I could muster while the tender spots left by her little hands and knees burned was and “I’m sorry. Mommy hurts.”

In moments like these it is almost impossible to not admit defeat. I wish I didn’t have to pop multiple pain pills just to get through the rest of the night. I slowly dialed the local pizza place, and put in an order. I wish I could have gotten up and cooked for my children. I wish I could have made pasta, meat, veggies, the works! But instead I laid on the couch, pain meds and exhaustion pulling me into a much needed slumber, and admitting defeat. My body has won again over my very much persistent and prideful mind. I tend to forget that there is a war going on inside me at all times. I forget that though others look at me like I am fine, I am not. That though I don’t want to admit it, I have to manage my “spoons” more efficiently. Admitting that I even have “spoons” is more than I would like to acknowledge. I want to run, I want to cook. I want to play with my children in the snow, and create wonderful childhood memories. Instead my body is slowly shutting down in ways I don’t even realize until it is too late. Instead I have to sleep. Instead I have to order pizza, and do the one thing I don’t want to do. The one thing that this prideful, and determined woman has to do.

Instead I have to admit defeat… and admitting defeat is sometimes more painful than the rest.

It all started with..

It all started with waking up to two little girls jumping into my bed, poking me and yelling with excitement, “CAN WE HAVE CEREAL?” – Waking up on the first day of a new year at 9am, my alarms far past going off and me sleeping through them again, girls jumping all around me, and a terrible headache. This headache wasn’t from drinking or partying too much the night before, as I spent New Years Eve night alone with my sleeping girls, and a few small glasses of wine. It was simply that the weather is changing (Again – Thank you Utah weather), and this is causing pain and stiffness in my joints. The difficulty getting out of bed slowed me down much more than I had anticipated, and even just putting on pants proved to be a challenge, but I did it. It only took about five minutes from the time I started bending my knees, stretching my fingers, and basically bending everything that bends in order to prepare them for the day. Funny how people don’t realize what preparation goes into getting out of bed for someone like me. The amount of effort is alarming. New Years Eve day had it’s own difficulties that likely very much played into the issues I was then suffering.

New Years Eve day was spent on the couch watching my little girls play with their new toys. They were behaving quite well, minus the random fights they generally have. children-playing Girl Spawn #3 is only slightly bigger than Girl Spawn #4, though they are 3 years apart in age. This proves for a lot of face to face arguments, an over abundant amount of tears, and more time out than I would prefer. However they were getting along, so it wasn’t too bad at all. I had planned to go see one of my dearest friends and her new adorable offspring. A beautiful little baby girl, whom I already love so much, and if I didn’t have my own minions to take care of, would visit every day! We planned for the girls and I to show up just after lunch. My body, however, had different plans. Sitting on the couch, I realized that the swelling in my abdomen that I woke up with had not dissipated at all. It is common for me to wake up with some stomach bloating now and then that slowly eases up. The reason I noticed the swelling was still present was due to the pain that had begun to increase. Obviously pain is not uncommon with me, but this pressure and pain together was slightly alarming. After about 20 minutes, I realized I had felt this pain just a few weeks ago, and had actually ended up in the ER out of fear.

One thing about having chronic illnesses (regardless of which one you have), you start having “normal” abnormal symptoms and learn what to do with them. Since my visit to the ER, and then a followup with my Dr, I knew that the “normal” abnormal bleeding I was experiencing was to be monitored. I knew I had pushed myself too far, and had irritated my insides. I needed to rest, drink liquids, and simply take it easy. I knew what to watch for, and when to head out to the Dr. Luckily I was fine, just as I was last time, but this obviously thwarted my plans for the day. A sad but common truth that I have to face on a regular basis with the ridiculous that is my body. Sometimes I feel like the real me, the REAL body I have, is stuck inside this strange body that developed over and around the one that I know so well. I feel like I am inside myself, and that one day this “pain” will melt away and I will be me again. Fresh. Healthy. Strong! 20130406-024550 Logically I know this isn’t the case, however on days like New Years Eve, I can’t help but have… hope? Dreams? This is probably emotionally unhealthy, but I can’t help it. Who would be able to? But I digress.

Once I was downstairs, had given my girls breakfast and sat down on the couch to rest my feet on the coffee table, I saw that I had a message on one of the dating apps I am on. (Don’t judge me) – The message proved to be nothing, and even borderline insulting. The dirty messages that some men send over the web is just ridiculous. Do those really work? I can’t imagine. As I was about to click out of the app I saw a picture that caught my eye. A black and white photo of a man with short, soft looking hair flipped up in the most casual way, aviator sunglasses reflecting the world in front of him, and a half smoked cigarette sticking out of his mouth. I am such a fool for good photography, especially of handsome men, so I just had to click on his profile. I scanned through his photos; A loving father with his adorable little son. A manly beard covered face, taken from such an awkward angle I cringe, though I have to forgive this photo due to the pure excellence of the one that brought me to his page. Skimming through his “synopsis” I found his self description quite refreshing, though very simply put and straight forward. I like straight forwardness. Without much thought I sent the following message:

“Your picture needs to have the caption ‘Badass Extraordinaire’.”

Quite amused and pleased with myself, I moved on, closed the app and turned on my laptop. I was going to check up on some work emails, a few personal items, and maybe play one of my geeky video games. My body hated me today already, so it was time to just relax and try not to upset it in any way. Just let it relax and get over the unpleasantness that ensued the night before. January 1st, 2014. This is supposed to bring new hope, and new life. Everyone has new dreams for the year. Set new goals, and feel like they have started something new! I, however, do not feel that way. It is simply a new month. I new number for tracking the rotation of the Sun, the Seasons, etc. I understand the symbolism, and though I have felt it before, I do not feel it now. Not saying I have nothing to look forward to, I simply did not feel the freshness of the year starting, and the “clean slate” positiveness I even felt on the verge of 2013. I take my life one day at a time right now, and January 1st was just another day… until..


textx-large I grab my phone and low and behold, it is a message from “Badass Extraordinaire”. Taking a look, and expecting a simply “You’re funny, thank you.” type of message, I instead got a longer message both thanking me and inquiring back, asking for more about me. I gave a quick little answer, and a “How about you?” reply. Generally I find that men on this site are either overly zealous about my pretty face, or overly pervy about my curvy body and thick lips. I am that redheaded, thick and curvy Irish girl that people think would be fun to.. well.. bang. I know that assuming that everyone I talk to is going to be like that is being grim, and I did initiate the conversation, so I just carried on. About 2 minutes later…


Hmmm.. Grabbing my phone off the end table, I saw it was him again. I then happened to notice I like his screen name. “Disgruntled White Guy”. HA! Nice. I opened the message, and to my surprise it was quite long. Reading through the message, I found it quite endearing. It was genuine, sweet, and very personally informative. I was interested. I text back.


He was interested. After back and forth off and on for a few hours, I decided that it was annoying to go through an app to talk this much, and offered up my phone number. I hadn’t had quite an enticing (and un-sexual) conversation with a man in quite awhile. Most times by this point they have at least made one sexual innuendo, however he had not. This was a genuine conversation, a real conversation, about who we were, what we like, and what we are looking for. The back and forth was quite entertaining. Then came the phone call. Then back to texting… and another phone call. All in all, I spoke to this man almost the entire day of January 1st, and then into January 2nd. By the time I got off the phone (3 1/2 hour conversation), it was well into the night, and just after 1:00 am. I got off the phone feeling invigorated, and pleased. stock-footage-young-woman-talking-on-mobile-phone-in-bed (1) I haven’t felt this kind of connection with someone since.. well.. since my “Dead Horse”, and even then it didn’t click like this until we had known each other for a few weeks. Though I was physically miserable all day long yesterday, I was emotionally alive and interest peaked. I was.. excited.

This morning I woke up late for work. My joints were stiff, my legs were sore, and my body just didn’t want to move. It took me over 45 minutes to completely come out of the exhausted trance my body was in after the last few days of pain and suffering. Crawling out of bed, I headed down two flights of stairs into the basement where I had left laundry in the dryer. Once the clothing was acquired, I attempted to climb the first flight of stairs. My right knee buckled underneath me, I felt the muscles scream, the joint lock and then release. HOLY HELL! It hurt SO bad, I collapsed onto the stairs, turning my body just right so I fell on my hip instead of my other knee. The twisting motion sent shooting pains through both legs, and my muscles seized. Both legs tingled, and I could feel the energy drain from me. I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my pajamas. 8:04 am. Here I was, already 4 minutes late for work, stuck in my basement and nobody to help me up. With my oldest daughter out of town visiting her father’s family for the school break, it was just me and my two baby minions. I was finally able to get myself together, climb not only the first flight of stairs, but eventually the second. I was able to get two children dressed, myself ready, and make it to work only 45 minutes late. To most, this seems like a long time, and not something to feel good about, but to me.. this was amazing.

Since I had arrived so late, I immediately took to getting to work. I pushed through all of the emails from the holiday break. The audits I needed to assign. The spreadsheets I needed to create, etc. A few minutes after I arrived at work…


My heart jumped, and I am positive my face lit up. Looking at my phone, it was him. “Badass Extraordinaire”! – “I’m sorry for keeping you up so late, I was worried about you getting enough sleep and making it to work, but I really enjoyed our conversation. Do you realize we talked for over 3 hours?.” – I couldn’t help but plant a ridiculously cheesy grin on my face. My body ached, my head hurt, but my heart was happy. I had hot coffee, a good job, and sweet man that I couldn’t get off my mind thinking about me just as much as I was him. I can’t help but feel a little flicker of hope that maybe this is.. maybe this is the start of something. Maybe..

And it all started with a photo…


Happiness is…?

Tomorrow I have a Doctors appointment. Another one. I have long lost count how many appointments have been made, for what reasons, and how they turned out. At the end of the day, pain still lingers inside me, and as much as I wish I could wish it away, I can’t. My body isn’t processing this right, and this is happening. Now this is wrong, and I hate it. I seriously… seriously hate it. I get this feeling that people think I am a hypochondriac. No. I KNOW people think I am, and it pains me. Each and every ache and pain I feel, each churn of my stomach, each swollen bit of skin I am becoming more and more hopeless, and worse yet, bitter. I know that I go back and forth between feeling hopeful and feeling hopeless, but I can’t help it. When you have multiple chronic illnesses, it is hard to maintain a steady hopeful outlook on life, especially when they are painful. Tonight while I was grazing through photos on my instagram feed, I saw the most beautiful sunset photos. I saw wonderful captures that filled me with so many different emotions. The beauty being brought to me through still life from all over the world, and such talented photographers doing it was just so wonderful! I miss photography. I miss having the energy to do it. Tree-Sunset-Reflection To drag my babies around, getting them in and out of the car. Now my feet and hands ache from the cold air, and the changes in weather, that by the time I get off work the last thing I am even thinking of is going out and about. I dread driving my car half the time because it is a stick, and I cringe at the thought of having to run errands. This is what I am right now? My knees are worse because of the cold air, and the muscle aches I am suffering as of late are barely bearable. I can’t go a day without pain meds, even with the gabapentin, and I am just exhausted. THIS is what I am?

I was raised in a poor polygamist family, with barely enough to eat and most of our food from the local food storage donations. My mom moved us out of and into another polygamist family, but during the four year span in between she worked two jobs to support us. Both fast food type jobs, and she attended college (briefly) before getting married. Even when I had hopes and dreams, they never really went far in my future, as I never really thought I could have them. I didn’t think that someone like me could accomplish much of anything, and even when I was kicking ass and taking names at what I was doing, it was a “in the moment” kind of thing. My ignorance caused a young pregnancy, though I was smart enough not to marry the “boy” who knocked me up, I still married an abusive man later. In and out of bad relationship after bad relationship, all the while standing my ground. Being strong enough to withstand each and every blow, whether it was self inflicted or not! But I still took it one day at a time. I have always envied those who had the ability to dream. Girls like me? We don’t dream. We survive. But now.. now I can barely do that, and now I am dreaming. Now I just want to strap my camera around my neck and snap away! I want to share my vision of this beautiful world! I used to operate four machines at once, pack, and ship order after order of paper products. jogging-weight-loss-plan-4 I once moved 100% by myself! Everything me and my three kids owned! I used to jog three miles a day, and could dance all night, multiple times a week and still work a 14 hour shift with only one or two days off a month. I am a mother! I am a fighter!! I have been through hell and back, and I have withstood so much! But now? Now I can’t even eat some french fries cooked in the same fryer some breaded chicken without getting knocked on my ass for three days.

Now I can barely get out of bed in the morning. Now I ache, and I wince with every movement. Now people look at me like I am disgusting in my broken and bloated body, and all I want to do is hide. Call me weak, as I feel that I am so much more than I can express, but I just want to hide. The thought of getting all my gear together, and heading out on a photography adventure with my kids alone wears me out. I am tired before I even move. Getting dressed in the morning most days exhausts me, and I find myself getting to work late almost every day. I used to be that person who was on time, and ready to take the world by storm. I hated being late, and I still do, but with two small children (who fight NON stop) and myself to get ready while my body malfunctions is just so overwhelming. I don’t know how much longer I am going to be able to do this, and keep up this facade that I am ok. I have been giving subtle hints to those I know that I need help, but as I suspected, the offer of help only stands when I don’t actually need it. The few people who I know would be willing to do whatever they could for me, I am too embarrassed to ask directly. Maybe I will get to that point, but those who I have asked so far have only been willing to go so far in a situation so rough, that they don’t even know where to begin. I can’t blame them, because I am not sure if I was in their shoes if I would touch my life with a ten foot pole.

Right now I am very unhappy. I am thankful for many, many things, but I am unhappy. I have decided you can be both things. Unhappiness does not mean you are not thankful and/or grateful for the things you have, and that have been given to you. Right now my unhappiness stems from the fact that the things I felt like defined me, the things I have always loved, I can no longer do. I want to be happy, but happiness is what? Happiness does not live here right now.

Four Pounds

Over the last two days I have been on mostly liquids, diuretics, laxatives, and pain meds. This sounds extreme.. because it is. The blockage and irritation inside my intestines is just exacerbating the issues and pain associated with the cyst on my ovary, and we are doing what we can to clear it all out and relieve some pressure. So, needless to say.. I have been miserable. The amount of time I have spent in the bathroom is far more than I would ever like to spend there, especially while at work. I have been through worse than this before, but generally I do it at home. Since I have bills to pay, including but not limited to my medical bills, I have to go to work and push through it (no pun intended). It is not exactly fun to be running back and forth from the toilet at your place of work. Luckily I am well enough acquainted with all of my female coworkers that it’s not a huge deal for them to walk in and deal with me. In fact, oft times they offer to help me in any way possible. Get me some water, or something else I need. I am actually pretty lucky to have people who care for me in my place of work.

This morning when I woke up, I decided to see what two days of liquids and misery had done to my weight. We are trying to decrease the inflammation, and increase the flow of natural function. I hopped on the scale and took a look. Wait.. what? I hopped OFF the scale, let it reset, and stepped back on. r-GLOBAL-FAT-SCALE-large570 No. There is no way I GAINED four pounds in two days! What the hell? I know that when you are “starving” your body goes into survival mode, and stores everything that you take in. However, I know that I have not even taken in four pounds of anything, so seeing that I had gained that much frustrated me. Don’t get me wrong, I am more worried about getting this cyst to shrink or burst, and less worried about my weight, however I am so annoyed that even going through suffering like I am, I am still gaining weight. Over 50 lbs so far this year, and for what reason? I eat healthier than most people I know. I don’t eat gluten, I drink a lot of water, and I LOVE my fruits and veggies. I take in little dairy, and I eat meat maybe once a week. If that! I can’t help but be at least a little annoyed. I know we have taken me off the plaquenil, which may have been part of the reason I gained so much, and decreased another medication to only half dose.. but why do I keep gaining?

Each and every day that I have to face, there are more and more things to be sad about. Four pounds of weight on top of the weight I have already gained is just icing on the cake. I noticed some new stretch marks on my breasts today, which is no surprise. They have also almost doubled in size, and my clothes are getting smaller and smaller on me. I look in the mirror, and I barely recognize this body I am in. This wilting, bloated, fluctuating body that I have lived in for so long, but barely even know it anymore. I often forget what I look like on the outside during my day to day activities. I remember me how I feel on the inside, and passing mirrors or reflective windows pulls me out of the self image I keep in my head. I am often told how beautiful I am. Hot. “Bangable”. I got that one today.. but I just don’t believe it. I am covered in sore. There are small cysts growing under my skin on my neck, and face. I have 80 lbs of extra weight sitting on my bones. I just can’t look at myself and say, “You are everything you should and can be.” – I know what lies under what others see, and I wish I could show them what I know I am under this.. mask of a person I am. I have a lovely shape. My smile can radiate for miles! When I walk, heads turn and doors open. Tabs get paid, chairs get pulled out, and boyfriends get slapped. Men remember their fetish for redheads, and my eyes pierce through the toughest of shells. I know I am in there.. I know under these four pounds, upon four pounds, and MORE pounds.. I am still in there. I may be sick, weak, fat, and blistered right now but one day.. One day I will be me again. Right? I will be me?

Will I be me again?

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