Thoughts..

Posting this here because for the most part people don't read it anyway.

I feel so sad lately. About a lot of things.

Mainly, it hit me yesterday that I'm more than likely going to have to watch the vast majority of my friends and family die before me.

Most of my friends are at least 20 years older than me. They'll be gone. I'll have to bury my dad one day. That thought hurts me. I'm going to have to say goodbye to so many more people and I've already done it a million times. I don't want to have to do it again and again.

 To an extent, this coincides with the fact that I just found out my last remaining aunt is dying. Losing her mind, at least. I'm sure she will be gone soon. My parents will put her in a home. She won't want to be there. We'll have to bury her just like she buried her husband and son within 2 days of each other.

I feel so hurt when I think of her. She lost everything, literally. A woman without a true  family to start with lost her husband and son within 2 days. Fuck. And now she's losing her mind. Life is sick and unfair. When her son died, she sat by his coffin and stroked his head and told him what a good boy he was and how much she loved him. I wish she could at least, to some small extent, have enjoyed her remaining years.

 Then I think, besides this, I'm going to be in pain forever. That thought never leaves me. I'm 24 going on 50 physically. There's nothing anyone can do.

Basically it feels like the rest of my life is going to be one fight after another.

One thing, I notice with myself, is that instinctively I don't fear death. If I come close to getting into a car accident, I don't feel nervous. I tend to think, 'Oh, okay.' I guess because deep down I know that no matter how many physical possessions I attain, the rest is going to suck anyway so if I died now I'd just be saving myself time and effort and pain.

I don't know what else to say besides that. These thoughts won't go away. I wish they would.

I wrote this a few days ago.

nevermind

Sentimental Metal

The possibility of exchanging our wedding rings, which are sterling silver, in for better ones has come up a few times, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

On one hand, the rings are very tarnished and they were very cheap. I believe they cost about 20$ each. We both worry that the rings will eventually break.

Same point, the rings reflect a time in our lives when we had much less than we have now. When we were first starting out, in our first floor apartment, without the possibility of a real wedding.

This little piece of metal has a sentimental value unlike anything else I own. When I look at it, I'm reminded of how far we've come together. When others look at it, they probably think that we're very poor.

So, I wonder what to do.

Smells Like Children

This blog has way too much focus on pain, I notice. I need to get away from that.

However, there is one thing on my mind, and it is a health related issue.

Yesterday, I basically found out that I cannot have kids. I use the word "basically" because the tests are not complete, but all my symptoms match.

Thing is, I feel like society is more sad for me than I am.

I never wanted kids. I generally dislike kids. DK never wanted them, either. So to me, personally, having to get my ovaries removed is no real big loss psychologically. I see it more as a money saver, since I'll never have to buy birth control after that (though if I need hormone therapy, that may cost a lot).

But everyone seems to be so upset about it. I told my mother, who looked like she wanted to cry. Even the doctor took it more seriously than me, telling me that she "sincerely hoped the tests proved otherwise." My reply? "Don't worry. Seriously. It's fine."

 Society just seems to want me to reproduce, and I just don't understand why.

 I'd be a terrible mother. I was abused growing up, and so, I have abusive tendencies. I have no desire to take anger management courses or change my personality, though. I like who I am.

 And let's just be honest, I'm not really healthy, either. There are sure to be days where I'd be in so much pain that I'd be screaming at my kid to get the fuck away from me and leave me alone so I could suffer in peace. Do you think I'd be going to my kid's softball game, if I was hurting? No. Do you think I'd stop taking painkillers if I were pregnant? No on that, too. I'm selfish like that. I enjoy not hurting.

There's just this constant pressure and I find it extremely frustrating. Now, at least, if a coworker asks why we have not had kids, I can honestly say that its because we can't. I was saying that before, to get people to back off, but now it's not a lie.

What's good for one person is not good for everyone; my life is my life, your life is your life, do what makes you happy, and I'll do what makes me happy. Which is skipping any potential treatment, getting my ovaries removed, and spending the rest of my days with DK and our cats.

Just a thought.....

Until recently, I did not realize how often I count my meds, or how much those numbers mean to me.

Forty, and I'm doing fine.

Thirty, and I'm still okay.

Twenty, and I'm getting low.

 Ten, and I'm worried.

 Any less, and I'm flat out scared.

 It irritates me how dependent I am on medication. Despite my accomplishments, it makes me feel like a sad, dysfunctional person, and that feeling never goes away.

But I need them cuz I hurt, and it doesn't stop.

 Yet part of me wonders if perhaps its just in my head. Or maybe I just really want it to be.

not where i belong

One thing I was raised to be was independent. Growing up I took care of myself. If I was sick, I went to the doctor by myself starting when I was 10. If I was sick at home, I stayed in my room until I was ok, and did not receive help from my family. I am used to doing things on my own.

I find that lately I am giving up some of that independence, and while it may be necessary, it terrifies me.

Case in point, last night was an extremely bad night for me. I was in very bad pain. I could not walk, speak, or really move.

Had I lived alone, I'd have probably called someone to take me to the ER for morphine or diluadid or something. But since DK was with me, I let him take care of me. He got me heat packs for my head, and rubbed the knots out of my back. I kept him up til 5 am or so.

I feel so guilty about this. I feel like I am giving up and becoming weak. Weak from a standpoint of being unable to take care of myself, and weak from the standpoint of being unable to accomplish the goals I've laid out.

I don't like this version of myself. But as the pain gets worse I feel I don't have a choice. Its this, or writhe in agony and let it kill me from a heart attack or something (and yes, I;ve heard enough pain can push you to that point.) I'm frustrated with myself, with my body, with my life. This is not who I want to be or how I want to live.

Expression of Hurt

Sometimes I wish I could express my feelings on this hurt. Explain how I feel to everyone else who is not in pain.

Then I wonder how to describe it.

All I can think of is "You have no idea how tired I am of living this way."