So recently I have allowed my negative and bitter feelings to sort of, maybe, almost totally comsume my life. After some reflective time outside today and rereading some recent text messages I sent while intoxicated, I realized I need some readjustment of my feelings. I admit I internalize things, I don't like to get unwanted attention, I don't like inconviencing people, I don't like being a burden. So imagine my surprise when it seems this starts to backfire on me.
I've been depressed about the lack of control of my life. No job, no one to love me, no moving to New York for another year, no friends left in my home town. I have never, and I repeat never had an eating problem before...I love food. I eat like a fat kid, normally. But I'd say the last 1 1/2 to 2 weeks I haven't really been eating. I'd have a yogurt or cereal for breakfast, eat no lunch, munch on some wheat thins, and then have some of whatever my parents made for dinner.I just haven't felt hungry cause I haven't really been doing much besides lounging around my house. I'd say it was just me adjusting to the sudden summer weather, since me and heat always seems to disagree at the beginning of the summer...but this weekend kinda tipped me off that I need more food.
Friday. I had a bagel from dunkin dounts with strawberry cream cheese and an iced coffee and went to the beach. A small cup of ice cream and I can't remember what for dinner.
Saturday. Yogurt in the morning. Large gatorade after a 2 mile walk. Then had all of 6 raviolis for dinner, before driving to Onset to go to Britteny's family's cookout. I had some more wheat thins with hummus.
I woke up Sunday morning at 4 a.m. in a dead sweat and pounding headache. I figured because I feel asleep without my AC on that was reason, so I turned it on and went back to sleep. Fast forward to 7 a.m. when I wake up feeling like some kicked my head in, my headache was that bad, and to top it off I felt nauseous. I knew I needed fluids and food asap. So I picked my body up out of my bed and journeyed to go downstairs. I didn't make it to my bedroom door before my eyes went black, head was pulsing to my heartbeat, and I felt like I was gonna overheat [even though my AC was set to 69 degrees]. I knew this was not good. I continued heading downstairs, at the bottom of the stairs my eyes went black again, so I sat on the bottom step for a moment. Got myself an OJ, gatorade and banana and made my way back up to my room. I then forced myself to down the OJ and banana before going back to bed. When I woke up at 10 a.m. I felt like the things before had never happened. I knew I probably shouldn't drink or go to the cookout, but fuck that. It was my fault that I hadn't eaten and I was not going to miss having a good time, plus I felt fine. And to be completely honest besides the accident with my foot, I can say that I've felt healthy and fine since then. Minus the morning after drinking for 12 hours, I never eat the morning after drinking.
Sunday. To go orange juice and a banana. Large gatorade. Bowl of cereal and then off to Sturbridge for my friend's cookout/birthday party. Starting drinking vodka and sprite. Had some clam chowdah and macaroni salad. More vodka and sprite. Triscuits. More vodka and sprite.
Monday. 5 bites of a dunkin donuts bagel with strawberry cream cheese. A hot dog before going to the ER to get my foot looked at. Wheat thins and some other snack things after.
I have started eating again this week, forcing myself to. Partly because I know I need to and partly because of the antibiotics I'm on. I guess besides Sunday morning, my tip off was that I've lost 4 pounds in the last week. I haven't weighed myself this week, Saturday was the last day I did. I weighed in at 126. [Now I know I'm skinny and I'm not stating this to brag]. When I left school I was about 133/135. Sometime in June I settled into 130 because of some lose of what I assume to be muscle tone and the summer weather. Due to my height I shouldn't really be 126. I'm borderline underweight/normal. My BMI is 18.6, anything below 18.5 is underweight. I know that I shouldn't have used food to control any part of my life. I don't need to be on a diet, so not eating isn't really an option for me. I acknowledge that I am indeed depressed. I can't just not eat because I'm depressed. Getting skinnier isn't going to bring him back or make me prettier. I still need calories even if I'm not as active as I used to be. I promise everyone that I will start taking care of myself again. Last week was my version of rock bottom. I don't like being there and I don't want to go back there. I will not allow myself to alter myself because of someone else conscience or unconsciously. I will not be weak. I will not be weak anymore.
Showing posts with label sorry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorry. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
A hope for the future...
About a month ago I was officially diagnosed with HPV, or Human Papillomavirus. (This is a fact that all of maybe five people knew about, and now anyone who reads my blog will know too.) I guess part of me just wanted to finally share this because of all the unease I've been having about it lately. Something like 1 out of every 2 sexually active females have it. And for most it will clear up on it's own. And then there's me. Not only do I have HPV, but I have a high-risk strand, which means my risk for cervical cancer is greatly increased. I told myself that I wouldn't write about my sex life on my blog anymore, but this has crossed far over just that portion of my life. When I went to my gynecologist in the middle of May, I was given my test results from the biopsies taken during my previous visit. The high-risk strand was confirmed, nothing new. However I received some other news, I had an infection in my cervix. The thing about HPV is that it creates abnormal cell growth and it's the cell growth that eventually leads to cancer if allowed to continue to grow.
I was given 3 options for treatment:
1. Do nothing and wait. Come back in 3 months for another pap smear and see if there are any changes. Positive or negative.
2. Have the abnormal cell growths frozen off and removed. However, this might not get the infection in my cervix.
3. Have a procedure called LEEP done, which involves a laser and unfortunately due to my age it can impact my ability to carry a baby to term or even conceive when I'm older.
Given those options what was I to do, but take option one. This choice could impact my life for negative, so why not air on the side of caution. It's been maybe 3 weeks since I made that decision. My partner at the time was relieved to hear that I was okay and was okay with everything as long as I was happy with the choice I made. I was and still am, however, I guess now more then before I've started to realize how I've slightly changed since learning that I had this. I strongly know now that I do want to carry my own child, and the thought that I may not be able to have a say in that due to this is a little saddening. However, it's still very early and things can change for the positive, but I also have to acknowledge that things can still change for the worse. Besides having the idea that my choice to carry my own child could be ripped out of my hands at any time, I've also come to realize that since I was told I have this at the beginning of May that sex just hasn't been the same. I've had two sexual encounters since learning of my diagnosis and I faked (for the most part) enjoyment because I was so worried that part of me was broken. Even now I haven't wanted to have sex in weeks. I know part of that is due to my falling out with my partner, but a large part of that is because I feel like how could anyone want to be with me? I am broken in a sense. What man wants to marry a woman who can't keep his family name alive? Or what's sexy about the girl at the bar with no desire to have sex? It's fucked up, but I always turn to my partner in my head for help, but he's gone. He has a new object of affection, so why would he want to deal with his old, broken one? And maybe that's one of the things that scares me so much is no matter how much he said, "This isn't going to make me run away. I'm not gonna run away from you because of this." On some level in my mind it still feels like that's why he left. Why should he have to deal with my issues, not like they affect him. And here I am sitting in my room, writing this blog and crying because even now I can't work up the courage to just talk to him. Even though I'm upset and we said we'd always be there for each other no matter what, I'd rather write this blog for the entire world to see. To share my story, and maybe, just maybe some other girl out there with a similar story to me will know that she's not alone...
I was given 3 options for treatment:
1. Do nothing and wait. Come back in 3 months for another pap smear and see if there are any changes. Positive or negative.
2. Have the abnormal cell growths frozen off and removed. However, this might not get the infection in my cervix.
3. Have a procedure called LEEP done, which involves a laser and unfortunately due to my age it can impact my ability to carry a baby to term or even conceive when I'm older.
Given those options what was I to do, but take option one. This choice could impact my life for negative, so why not air on the side of caution. It's been maybe 3 weeks since I made that decision. My partner at the time was relieved to hear that I was okay and was okay with everything as long as I was happy with the choice I made. I was and still am, however, I guess now more then before I've started to realize how I've slightly changed since learning that I had this. I strongly know now that I do want to carry my own child, and the thought that I may not be able to have a say in that due to this is a little saddening. However, it's still very early and things can change for the positive, but I also have to acknowledge that things can still change for the worse. Besides having the idea that my choice to carry my own child could be ripped out of my hands at any time, I've also come to realize that since I was told I have this at the beginning of May that sex just hasn't been the same. I've had two sexual encounters since learning of my diagnosis and I faked (for the most part) enjoyment because I was so worried that part of me was broken. Even now I haven't wanted to have sex in weeks. I know part of that is due to my falling out with my partner, but a large part of that is because I feel like how could anyone want to be with me? I am broken in a sense. What man wants to marry a woman who can't keep his family name alive? Or what's sexy about the girl at the bar with no desire to have sex? It's fucked up, but I always turn to my partner in my head for help, but he's gone. He has a new object of affection, so why would he want to deal with his old, broken one? And maybe that's one of the things that scares me so much is no matter how much he said, "This isn't going to make me run away. I'm not gonna run away from you because of this." On some level in my mind it still feels like that's why he left. Why should he have to deal with my issues, not like they affect him. And here I am sitting in my room, writing this blog and crying because even now I can't work up the courage to just talk to him. Even though I'm upset and we said we'd always be there for each other no matter what, I'd rather write this blog for the entire world to see. To share my story, and maybe, just maybe some other girl out there with a similar story to me will know that she's not alone...
Friday, October 1, 2010
Not Such an Easy A.
I saw the movie "Easy A" tonight and now it's got me thinking. I've been doing some thinking about my life. For anyone who's seen the movie you know she gets the guy at the end....The whole movie is about self worth and it's ironic that my conseling session this week brought that up. I need to feel enough self worth. Enough to be with a guy and enough to feel that I deserve a good guy. Let's look at my track record...hmmm Guy A dragged me all over the emotion spectrum; Guy B never talked to me after sleeping with me; Guy C showed some real promise until I made one mistake and can't move past it; Guy D gave me happiness for an extremely brief time and who knows what the fuck is going to happen with it, my guess would be nothing. The connecting factor between all the Guys is how I allowed myself to be treated with. I never felt like I was good enough and I just wanted someone to be there so I went along with things even when I found them to be shitty. Granted Guys C and D are the best half of the Guys. Sigh. I deserve to be with a guy who wants to be with me. I deserve to be with someone cares about me. I deserve to be with a guy who can forgive me. I deserve to be with a guy who will love me. I deserve so much better than what I've had before. I deserve to be happy. I'm tired of putting in all the work. I'm tired of being the creative of one. I want the guy that's gonna surprise me with flowers the day a casting list goes up, because if I make it they say "congrats" and if I don't make it they say, "I'm sorry". I want to be thought of in a way that doesn't make the person feel anger. I hate that my reputation is "easy", "sex crazed", "willing to spread for anyone". Fuck off. It was one fucking time and one fucking mistake. And some people say that it was almost four months ago and no one's judging me anymore. Fuck you they're not. Sure some people just say whatever about it now...and other it's either something they hate me for or like to make jokes at me for. I want to feel less shitty about enjoying sex and wanting to be with someone sexually that I have some emotional feelings for. I want to be able to call someone to make plans with. I wanna go on dates. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me. I want someone to gve me a reason to be happy with my life. I want someone to proud of the things I'm doing with my life. I want to have someone come see the shows I'm in and actually care about how my rehearsals are going. I want an equal partner and to not feel like I'm always making up for something I've done wrong. I want a new start.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Letter to Lost One
Dear Lost,
I'm writing this to explain exactly what happened. I don't know if you'll ever read this nor do I care. I had a wonderful week with you that I wouldn't trade for the world. I enjoyed our late night conversations and I really let myself be vulnerable with you. I told you things I shouldn't have so soon, just because I was comfortable with you. You don't know it, but you changed a lot of my perceptions about things. Before you I just wanted a fuck buddy, I thought all I needed was sex. Then you came into the picture and you made me realize that what I wanted was a relationship. You know how shitty my last guy had been to me and yet you weren't perfect either. Don't lay with me in bed and tell me who much you care about me and how much you like me and say shit like "I'd ask you to be my girlfriend, but with graduation..." Fuck you. You told someone that you didn't want to smother me. Is that why we couldn't walk down the streets of Franklin holding hands? Is that why you didn't kiss me goodbye in the Campus Center, but the morning before you refused to leave my condo without one...You'd probably say that it was only supposed to be a thing, but when you start telling a girl how you feel about her, no matter how hard she tries to be, eventually that shit will sink in. So thanks for telling me "I'm beautiful" in private and not acknowledging it in public. Thanks for trying to make me feel like shit when I was breaking up with you. Thanks for calling me selfish for ending things with now with you instead of watching you walk out of my life at graduation. Thanks for making it seem that things might have worked after graduation, when you know they fucking wouldn't have. If you had really wanted things to work you wouldn't have ignored me in public or keep bringing up graduation. I'll tell you right now the three reasons why things wouldn't have worked:
1. I'm a party girl. I want to go to clubs & bars.
2. You still don't know me, you hardly asked me anything.
3. I'm still in college, I wouldn't have made you wait for me.
And you want to know the saddest part of this, that as much as I care about you I haven't cried. That night after we talked...I curled up onto B's couch, waiting for her to come home and only two tears fell. Two. And then I was over it, over it all. Granted there have been times in the past couple days that somethings made me think of you or like last night when I slept in my bed for the first time since Thursday night, I smelled you and it made me sad. So I can't say that I don't miss you and that I still don't care about you. I do. Thinking about the last week makes me happy, sad, and so angry. In your own way you treated me shitty. You should have known that I'd get attached and that bringing up the whole graduation thing and how this was nothing too serious, was shitty. And I'm not writing this to get you back, I'm writing this for me. I'm selfish. I want to write these things to move on and to stop caring about how you're doing. I'm not the bad one, but if it makes you feel better, I'll be the fucking bitch that hurt you, but I'm not "another girl who rejected you". I got out before either of us got too hurt. Trust me, things would have been a lot worse the longer this went on.
Love,
Sarah
p.s. Hope you're doing fine. I'm sorry.
Things I've done to get to NYC: Broke another part of my heart.
I'm writing this to explain exactly what happened. I don't know if you'll ever read this nor do I care. I had a wonderful week with you that I wouldn't trade for the world. I enjoyed our late night conversations and I really let myself be vulnerable with you. I told you things I shouldn't have so soon, just because I was comfortable with you. You don't know it, but you changed a lot of my perceptions about things. Before you I just wanted a fuck buddy, I thought all I needed was sex. Then you came into the picture and you made me realize that what I wanted was a relationship. You know how shitty my last guy had been to me and yet you weren't perfect either. Don't lay with me in bed and tell me who much you care about me and how much you like me and say shit like "I'd ask you to be my girlfriend, but with graduation..." Fuck you. You told someone that you didn't want to smother me. Is that why we couldn't walk down the streets of Franklin holding hands? Is that why you didn't kiss me goodbye in the Campus Center, but the morning before you refused to leave my condo without one...You'd probably say that it was only supposed to be a thing, but when you start telling a girl how you feel about her, no matter how hard she tries to be, eventually that shit will sink in. So thanks for telling me "I'm beautiful" in private and not acknowledging it in public. Thanks for trying to make me feel like shit when I was breaking up with you. Thanks for calling me selfish for ending things with now with you instead of watching you walk out of my life at graduation. Thanks for making it seem that things might have worked after graduation, when you know they fucking wouldn't have. If you had really wanted things to work you wouldn't have ignored me in public or keep bringing up graduation. I'll tell you right now the three reasons why things wouldn't have worked:
1. I'm a party girl. I want to go to clubs & bars.
2. You still don't know me, you hardly asked me anything.
3. I'm still in college, I wouldn't have made you wait for me.
And you want to know the saddest part of this, that as much as I care about you I haven't cried. That night after we talked...I curled up onto B's couch, waiting for her to come home and only two tears fell. Two. And then I was over it, over it all. Granted there have been times in the past couple days that somethings made me think of you or like last night when I slept in my bed for the first time since Thursday night, I smelled you and it made me sad. So I can't say that I don't miss you and that I still don't care about you. I do. Thinking about the last week makes me happy, sad, and so angry. In your own way you treated me shitty. You should have known that I'd get attached and that bringing up the whole graduation thing and how this was nothing too serious, was shitty. And I'm not writing this to get you back, I'm writing this for me. I'm selfish. I want to write these things to move on and to stop caring about how you're doing. I'm not the bad one, but if it makes you feel better, I'll be the fucking bitch that hurt you, but I'm not "another girl who rejected you". I got out before either of us got too hurt. Trust me, things would have been a lot worse the longer this went on.
Love,
Sarah
p.s. Hope you're doing fine. I'm sorry.
Things I've done to get to NYC: Broke another part of my heart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)