11:59 p.m.

still sad

Thank you for your nice comments. They make me feel a bit better. I'm lucky to have you all.

I'm still really sore, and I can't sit up for more than 5 or 10 minutes without hurting. I don't want to sleep anymore; I just have bad dreams when I do.

It's like I finally admitted that I might want a family. That all I ever wanted was a family that loved me, and that maybe - someday - I'd want to be a mommy. And, it's like god/mother nature/whoever said HA! Fuck you.

I know I'm not infertile, but it's like I don't feel whole anymore. I feel so empty. I feel so broken and sad and all I want to do is cry. And they told me I'd be really hormonal for a bit, and that it was normal to feel this way, but I just feel so...sad.

When I close my eyes I see my body and there's a big black hole of nothingness where my left ovary used to be. If you're a boy imagine someone ripping out one of your testicles. Would you feel like a man, still? I don't think there are words to describe it, so I'm just going to stop now.

I'm at Mark's. I didn't want him to see me in the hospital, and I avoided his calls today, but I just needed to feel...wanted. Or, loved. Or, needed. Or, anything other than alone and pathetic.

The car ride really hurt though.

He bought me Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb as a get well gift. It smells like a million flowers orgasmed into a bottle - in a good way; it's lovely. However, and I'm not being ungrateful, who needs $150 perfume?! That's outrageous, and I feel weird accepting it. He also got us tickets to a Bronco game later this month.

He's amazing, but I feel wrong accepting the gifts. I've never felt comfortable receiving gifts, much less ones that are that expensive. I just want someone to love me as much I love them. They don't need to give me expensive gifts or have lots of money for that. The best gift I ever got was a stuffed fucking panda. Anyway, I know he means well, and they're lovely gifts so I'm going to stop whining about them.

He told me I was beautiful today. No one has ever told me I was beautiful before. No one. Ever. I've only been told what I need to change, or if I could only do my hair this way it'd look better, or maybe I should lift a few more weights to tone my arms, or if I'd shut up I'd be prettier, or a million other things that I've heard that still run through my head everyday. I cried.

I don't feel beautiful. All I can think of other than the pain and how empty I feel is that I can't go to the gym for 2 weeks. How pathetic is that?

I'm glad he doesn't know about my issues with food and my body. I think if he did he'd judge me differently. I know people do.

I'm feeling antsy and I just want to go home now. I don't know what's wrong with me.

last entry | next entry


I'm Not Dead, I Swear


Bulletpoints - 09.01.10
Today starts week three of my jury duty. - 04.13.10
I think my eyes are permently swollen from crying. - 04.03.10
I know it's April Fool's day, but I promise you this is no joke. - 04.01.10
Tempting fate. Please don't let me regret this. - 03.29.10

Archives 2002-2004


Perfect Pandas

Add to Technorati Favorites
Personal Blogs - Blog Top Sites
Health Blogs - Blog Catalog Blog Directory