It’s Already Over…

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I wake up every morning to a “standard” level of pain. It can waiver slightly, but it pretty much stays the same. I think about waking up next to someone and having them see me fumble my way to my bathroom. I imagine them realizing that I am going to be some level of ill at all times. For the rest of my life. I can’t help but to think:

“It’s already over.”

Chatting. Laughing. Having a great time, when suddenly a pain shoots through my side, causing me to pause and slouch over in pain. Visceral hypersensitivity has decided laughing is over.

“It’s already over.”

Eating. Sharing. Getting to know one another, when suddenly my spoon drops from my hand, causing soup to splatter all over my front. My hand lost grip due to my arthritis.

“It’s already over.”

Outside. Walking. Holding hands. Sweet nothings, when suddenly I slouch over and need to find a bathroom! My IBS is acting up, and it is urgent!

“It’s already over.”

Couple walking in feild I am often referred to as a man hater due to my very strong opinions about women’s rights, and protecting us from the fear of rape and abuse. Calling a woman a man hater over her fighting for her gender’s rights is simply ridiculous. Not one day goes by where something doesn’t happen that is hurtful or abusive towards me from a man. We are taught to ignore it. To walk away. To let it go. Some also think that since I meet and talk to so many men online, that I must just be a man hating slut. This can’t be furthest from the truth.

The reality is that I am ill. I have met men in the past I liked, however my body was out of order. Trying to date someone is so hard when you have so much going on inside. So much going on in your body.. and in your mind. In my mind. I know that the more I think, the worse it gets. Maybe not the illness, but the fear. The thought that once I come out with all of my ailments, the first thing they will do is run. They will want to run as far away from me as possible, and never return. Each time I see a face react to a moment of clarity. A moment of realization. Each time I can’t help but to think:

“It’s already over.”

But is it? Is it really over, or is it all in my head? Do they want to stick around? Do they want to talk about it, learn about it, and even one day accept it? I have no idea, but I figure that if this is the case, one day it will simply happen. Someone will educate themselves. They will take the initiative. They will see the value in me that still exists, and base what develops off of that. I may be the one standing in my way, but it has nothing to do with my feminism. It has everything to do with my self sabotage. My fears. My pains. My hurt and anger still lingering because I am ill. It’s possible that it really is already over, long before it begins.

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I Really Just Want To Be Alone… Rant…

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It’s funny how little things can bring up some big emotions. Here I sit, almost 2am, watching the final season of “How I Met Your Mother” that I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch yet because it was “our show”. I haven’t watched “Breaking Bad”, and even watching “The Walking Dead” is difficult. My head hurts, my body hurts, and my heart hurts. For no other reason than remembering everything I lost. I am not just referring to the relationship that messed me up mentally more than any other relationship I have had, but everything that I felt I lost at the same time. My life, my youth. My everything. Being diagnosed with any autoimmune disease is hard. Beyond hard.

The past few days I have felt really alone. I honestly WANT to be alone, simply because it seems the people around me just aren’t there. They are somewhere else, and that is ok. I have been ignored, yelled at, pestered, questioned, and exhausted the last few weeks. I have been in the hospital, in and out of the Dr office, and pumped full of drugs. I have curled up in pain due to what we later found out was an obstruction. I have missed so much work, I am about to lose all my benefits… which is what pays for my medications. My radiator had to be replaced. Then a fuse blew. And my life at work has gotten hostile due to my absence. I am aware that others think I get special treatment and should have been fired already. I can hear them talk, and see the looks. I just ignore them because they have no idea who I am, and they have no bearing on any decision.

After a terrible few weeks, three of my sisters decided to throw me a “girly night”. When they arrived with snacks, pedicure items, nail polish, and so many other pampering items, I was so surprised! bigstock-Group-women-with-facial-mask--36733561 I can no longer drink, which has been our favorite sister past time for YEARS, so they decided to do the traditional girls night theme. Though, they did bring beer for themselves. They also brought Cujo. My sister Blondie’s (not her real name) awesome rottweiler, who scares the living bejeesus out of my rabbit. Cujo just turned 10, and has no interest in my terrified little buddy, however she was not happy with this situation and spent the entire time in her burrow in her habitat. It was such a loving and happy gesture, and was SO much fun that we decided to commit ourselves to it every month or two. I was so pleased with my overdone nails, silly toenail polish and awesome face mask thingy they bought me… until… I got a message from one of my other sisters.

My mom had three girls. The oldest who we shall call “Hippy”, one we shall call “Tinky” and myself. Hippy and Tinky both tend to feel like the odd man out. The “black sheep” of the family. Them, along with a few other siblings, tend to feel left out of family functions and often forgot about. tumblr_n5e597uyTa1rfm88zo1_250 With 19 kids in my family, I can imagine there are plenty of family occurrences that I am not only not invited to, but will never know about. Such is life. I don’t take it personally, as I know my family loves me. That being said.. Hippy apparently does not feel the same.

I have spent the last two days dealing with drama between Hippy and my sister we shall call “Retro” (She looks so good in retro styled outfits and hair). Retro and Hippy had a falling out a few years ago over their personal lives clashing together in a way that turning into a car wrecking, plane crashing, train wrecking mess! It was nasty. And I tried to stay out of it because I know how both of them are. Hippy is very set in her ways, though she thinks she is very enlightened and open minded. She really is not. I know she means well, so I tend to just ignore what she says to me, though half of it is actually really mildly insulting. She doesn’t mean harm, and truly thinks she is helping. I get this. Retro does not, and takes the insults as insults. Which I completely understand as well. Retro, on the other hand, can be downright mean (much like myself) and really go at it when she is angered. Long story as short as I can make it… they have not made up, and I honestly don’t think they ever will.

Hippy has taken this loving gesture by three of my awesome sisters and turned it into some kind of rejection of her as a sister. She took a great night that I enjoyed so much, spending time with my family, and made it about her. I have missed being able to do anything because of my health so much! My sisters that came, Blondie, Retro, and Beatles (We used to sing Beatles songs at a goth club on karaoke night) took the time and effort to do this for me. However Hippy has been harassing me for two days now, venting about her falling out with Retro. I have been trying my hardest to be as supportive as I can, but I am drained. I just want to tell her to leave me alone and let me be, because her emotional issues with the family is not my problem, but I can’t. redhead-blonde-brunette-300x225 I love all of my siblings, and I can’t just push them away when they are hurting. But I am hurting as well, and I am so frustrated that a kind thing 1/3 of my sisters did for me turned into an ordeal about Hippy. I can’t understand why she would do that. Why she can’t allow me to actually be friends with my other sisters as well without feeling as though she is being thwarted. We are all adults.. I don’t get it.

So, here I am at 2am. Alone, watching a TV show that is bringing up old feelings of being lost, and losing love. Recovering from my Monday routine of physical therapy and work.. dealing with my life as it is, and feeling so anxious over others problems. I haven’t felt this alone in awhile. It’s odd because I want to be alone at the same time. Alone because I can’t stand to hear about other people’s problems that I can’t fix. Alone because I am tired of feeling like I have to constantly defend myself. Alone because I am tired of life as it stands right now.

I don’t like being lonely… but I like being alone. I like being alone because of all of the above! Because I am not missing him, but missing a life before I was like I am now. A life where I could move around. Go hiking if I wanted to. To be free to run, and jump around. To be healthy enough to drink, dammit! A am not mourning him.. I am mourning me. Over time I have realized that what I thought was lingering love is actually not love at all. It is the feelings I harbor about my life. He just happened to be there when my life started to fall apart. When my health went downhill. When I found out that I had the same illness as my grandmother, but diagnosed 30 years before she was, he was there. Only he wasn’t. He had been long gone far before that camping trip. In all honesty, he never was there. I was alone in that battle, and I was trying to convince myself that I would find the solution. That I had him. That I wasn’t alone at all, when in all reality I was. I have been so afraid of being alone since. Alone in my illness. Alone in my pain. Alone in all that I do.

download There is a difference between being alone and lonely. Tonight I am enjoying being alone.. but I am lonely. I do not want anyone to fill this void of loneliness. I want to feel the loneliness. I want to accept it. Because if I can’t get rid of this anxiety welling inside me, anxiety that is keeping me up far too late… I won’t ever be ok.

So, here I sit, now 2:11am. Trying to throw off all the bullshit I endured the last two days. How I want to be alone, and possibly stay alone. I am reminded of how selfish and hurtful other human can be, simply because others were kind in a way that they didn’t see fit. How one can attach feelings in all the wrong places. How I just want to be alone.

I really just want to be alone.

Waking Hours

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I woke up this morning to my teenager tapping me on the arm and wiggling me around. I had asked her to make sure I woke up to my alarm, as I tend to sleep through all 9 that I set. I have a hard time sleeping, but when I sleep, I sleep hard. It was 6:15am. I did NOT want to get up. Of course I moaned and groaned about it, slipping in and out of sleep, for another 30 minutes until I finally dragged my ass out of bed. Usually I get the girls dressed, get myself dressed, then do my hair and makeup with whatever time I had left. I decided that today I was too lazy to go up and down the stairs so much, so I would do hair and makeup first.

Once my eyes got used to the light, I stood in front of the mirror. Mascara smeared below my eyes from yesterday, and my hair all over the place. I washed my face, wiped all the left over makeup off that I was too lazy to address last night, and stared at myself again. “My hair is a wreck”, I thought. I had mildly wet/damp hair when I went to bed the night before, not even bothering to pull it up or deal with what it would be tomorrow. Standing there now I decided I should have rethought this. I could put my hair up in a ponytail or bun, but that would risk me getting a headache I always gets from pulling my crazy locks up. My natural hair has a lot of volume and a kind of beachy waves meets afro curls kind of thing going on. “Hair cream?”
I ran my fingers through the mess on top of my head, hanging upside down for good measure, like we have all seen women do, and rubbing in the hair cream as much as I could. Standing straight again I looked myself over. Still a mess. I no longer cared. Applying a small amount of powder to my skin, brown liner and powder to my eye lids, and a bit of mascara I threw on my glasses and headed downstairs.

There was my 7 year old, short blond bobbed hair a mess and no shoes or socks, playing MineCraft like always. I became the meanest mommy on the planet when I shut the game off without even addressing her defiance. The hair and shoes battle was mighty, but I won! On most levels. She didn’t speak to or look at me until I dropped her off in front of her school 20 minutes later. The littlest was so proud of herself for finding a purple dress that looks like a shirt and skirt, but is one piece before I had to ask her to do so. She is not allowed to wear dresses or skirts without anything underneath, and was EXTRA proud of the jean shorts she hid under the frills of the outfit. She paired it with black boots, and her adorable little curls. Her light brown skin dawned a bandaid on her leg, a few uncovered scratches, some random food on her cheek, and the typical bruising an extremely active (yet clumsy) 4 year old has. She looked like a perfect little bruised up doll!

Turning to find my own clothes in the pile of laundry sitting in a basket in my living room, I noticed some teenage angst stewing on a chair at the dining table. “I hate my fat butt!”, she told me. I couldn’t help but laugh, but I understand where she is coming from. From the time I was a young teenager I have been graced with a curvy body as well. People thinking I was 17, sometimes even 18, from the age 13 and up, I was deemed a full grown woman before I even knew how to handle that or my own body. She is no different. She complained in that awesome teenager tone about going up three pants sizes in one summer, though she has not gained that much weight. Sifting through the laundry for my own clothes for the day, I just shook my head because I know exactly how she feels, but I also know there is nothing that can be done about it.

I have been trying to complain less to people I know, though my pain levels and misery hasn’t really changed. I recently went to a new gastroenterologist who told me I have both IBS, as well as a section of my lower intestines that is damaged. I have developed both hemorrhoids and polyps on the inside of my gut which are the cause of the bleeds. HE gave me the choice to either go have the section of my intestines removed, which can cause risk of incontinence, or to do a non invasive scoping. The scoping will consist of them going in, finding an issue area and literally putting a tiny rubberband around the polyp. This will then cut off circulation and cause it to fall off. We will go in every three weeks and do this. There is slight risk for hemorrhaging, as well as infection, however it is SIGNIFICANTLY lower than if we did surgery. I obviously chose the banding procedure. So lovely.

On a positive note my leg is healing well, and I am out of the boot. I am now driving again (2 weeks!) and am in the brace. My Dr said that he doesn’t need to see me again for the break unless something else happens, or if the physical therapist thinks that I need to go back. The pain is still in my leg, and I have a funny limp now, but that might go away after time. We talked about both my right and my left leg, as I tore ligaments in both while only breaking the right. I still have stronger pains in the my ankles than I ever did before the accident, and he said that after damage like this, I can expect to have stronger pains for about 18-24 months. Sometimes the pain sticks around. It is impossible to tell. I am, however, free to return to the cycling and elliptical exercise if I wish. I can swim, walk, etc without the brace, if comfortable. I just need to cry not to trip over my own damn feet and cause another accident. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

As I sit down at my desk, I am reminded of the shoulder pain that has not gone away, and the new shoulder pain on the left side of my body. I don’t want to go see another orthopedic surgeon about my issues with my shoulders, as now I have had my ankles, knees, hands, elbows, guts, spine, neck, and shoulders addressed. The major ones causing me to see a specialist and rack up even more past due medical bills. I am just not excited to do either. I figure I will give it time to see if it resolves, and if in a few months they are STILL this bad, I will go in to see my Rheumatologist specifically. At least he will be educated enough on my body to send me to someone legit, like he did with my gastro. I hated my last gastro! Reaching for the mouse hurts. Typing hurts. Moving my arm around back and forth from the mouse to the keyboard hurts. What is new about pain, right? New pain doesn’t always equate to new symptoms, however.

I keep thinking about chronic illness as a whole. When you have a chronic illness you really have to monitor your body, food, activities, and life. It is much harder to “be up for anything” because anything could literally knock me on my ass and cause me to be bedridden for a month! I have been very good about my activity limitations, and though I want to get out there more, I keep coming up with excuses. Yes, they may be legitimate reasons, but they feel like excuses.

My leg is broken.

I am flaring.

I am too tired.

I want to use my energy for something else.

The kids will wear me out.

I can’t afford it right now.

I can’t risk getting hurt.

All of these are legitimate, but all of these can be applied to ANY situation I want to get out of. Yes, I need to be careful, but I feel like my careful has become “hermit-full” and is no longer me just trying to keep my body together. I woke up this morning, and made choices on how I was going to begin my day. I actually feel pretty decent, minus the shoulder pains. I can walk; I have a limp, but I can walk! I can drive! I can move, and get around. I can still laugh and smile! I can still be just as fun. I am still me inside, I swear it! I just need to stop making excuses.

I truly have to find some extra motivation every day. Motivation to get up, dressed, makeup, hair, etc. Sometimes my day ends up like today. Messy hair, half assed makeup, and simple jeans/plain t-shirt/tennis shoes combo. Other days can end up with a bun, others I can go to work looking like I just came from the salon. But I know my body more than I used to, and each day I can motivate myself to do what is within my limits. I choose what those limits are used for. The dishes can wait. The laundry can sit in the livingroom. The bathrooms can get wiped down tomorrow. Today I am going swimming with my kids.

I woke up today, which is more than I can say for so many who suffer from medical ailments. What are you going to do with your waking hours?

Giving Up For Today…

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Today my anxiety is through the roof. I’m both physically and emotionally in pain. My heart aches, and my head aches. I’m so stuffed up I can barely breath, and I can’t keep from crying.

sleeping positions in periodsMy life is in shambles, and I have no idea how to put it back together. I’ve never felt so helpless, and I don’t know how to handle this feeling. I think I’ll give myself today to let it all out, and see if I can think straight tomorrow. I’ve given up on my relationship with “Rain”, and I’ve given up on today. I am not sure what else I’ll give up on, but right now I want to give up all together.

I really dislike how diagnostics, chronic pain, and chronic illness make you so emotional. I wish I had more control, but I don’t.

You Should…

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“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.

I Will Go Down With This Ship…

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Warning: Another silly post about my “Dead Horse” and my ridiculous undying love for him. Don’t read on if you are bored easily by silly girl love.

I can’t deny that every time a start to get close to having feelings for a man, they start to piddle off into nothing again. Yes, I love to be kissed, and held just as everyone else does and I do cave from time to time and allow someone to feed my desires. Especially with being as sick as I have become, and continue to be, it is wonderful to be held, even if it is only by someone who wants you for one thing. I know that my heart belongs to another, and as much as I have tried endlessly to get over him and move on, I can’t. This is not due to a lack of suitors, as my friends often tease me about my “slew of men” I have pining after me (which I don’t see why at this point) but due to the fact that I feel pain and sometimes even guilt when I am with another. I see him in my head. I see every Infinity that drives past me, or is parked anywhere in eye sight. I am such a silly and stupid girl for doing what I did to him, and even though I know I never would have made him happy, I wish he was still mine. I will always be his, and I am having the hardest time coming to terms with it.

sad-contemplative-korean-woman-lying-in-bedI dream of him often. I have dreamt of him every day for the last week. I wake up feeling melancholy and remorseful. I feel both comfort and pain knowing that someone else can be for him what I was not able to be. I miss his children, and I often wonder how they are. Did they ever test his youngest for autism? How are his middle child’s teeth? Is his daughter still in choir? How are her headaches doing? Do they miss me, too? I don’t know, because I was so emotionally afraid of admitting that I loved them all so much for fear of them being taken from me. Now I feel that pain always, and as much as I try not to think about it, my sleeping self refuses to let me convince myself I have let them all go. I miss movie night, with all of the children cuddled up watching Disney movies. I miss camping with them. I miss seeing their faces, and hearing their silly little jokes. I miss them telling me adorable little stories. I miss him brushing my hair out of my face, and looking deep into my eyes. I was afraid of the feelings he stirred in me, and I pushed them all down, and him away. Now they have risen inside me in their absence, and I am all too familiar with the feeling. I can never go back to that family. I caused far too much destruction in my exit, that I feel I can never be forgiven. I don’t know if I deserve it. I have many struggles in life right now, but I can say that the pain I feel from messing up my chance with him.. with them.. is far more painful than any flare I have.

This morning a song came to mind that can describe how I am feeling right now. I know that I will always love them, and nothing can change that. I expect nothing in return ever again, but I will go down with this ship. Here are the lyrics, with the official music video below. Despite my dramatic connection to this song, it is lovely in general. Dido is one of my favorite singers. Enjoy.

“White Flag” – Lyrics provided by A to Z Lyrics.

I know you think that I shouldn’t still love you,
Or tell you that.
But if I didn’t say it, well I’d still have felt it
where’s the sense in that?

I promise I’m not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were

I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I’m in love and always will be

I know I left too much mess and
destruction to come back again
And I caused nothing but trouble
I understand if you can’t talk to me again
And if you live by the rules of “it’s over”
then I’m sure that that makes sense

I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I’m in love and always will be

And when we meet
Which I’m sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still
I’ll let it pass
And hold my tongue
And you will think
That I’ve moved on….

I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I’m in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I’m in love and always will be

I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I’m in love and always will be

Is that so much to ask. ..

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woman-hands-on-head-eyes-closedI haven’t posted in a few days, and though I’m going to post a much longer blog tomorrow I had to post about my woes.
My head has been hurting the last few hours, and I figured it was just from everything I had done, and I was running low on spoons. My right temple has been the worst, and about five minutes ago I found a flat, hard, quarter sized cyst building up right on top of my temple.  Looks like I’m doomed to suffer headaches at least temporally until it decides to heal.

One week.  An entire week.  That’s what I’m asking for. One week without any new issues. Is that so much to ask? ?