Fucking "Illnesses"

MmmK... new post, new post, new post....

Uhhh... I seriously feel like I don't have shit to write. I used to love to blog. I used to feel like I had so much to say. Now... well, not-so-much.

It isn't that I don't have shit going on.. Because, boy, do I. But, I realized that when I blogged before I became completely consumed with diagnoses and symptoms... But, never recovery. I'd have good days, or even periods. But, never a real effort to be better.

This is not to say that I am "better." I am just less focused on how ill I am. And, this is not to say that I pretend I am not ill. I am just trying to live with my illnesses, instead of living as my illnesses. If that makes any damn sense.

I guess this comes to mind because of the tiniest incedent today. S was about to leave to pick up lunch when the maintenance man came. S bent over and kissed me goodbye. I looked at him with that what-the-fuck-do-you-think-you-are-doing look that only women can produce. He was dumbfounded... what did he do? I realized that my need for his presence in order to have someone in our home was not "normal." What's more is that I realized how many other "normal" things I am incapable of doing, alone at least. I was so used to P knowing and doing what I needed that I had forgotten how "abnormal" I can be. S was more than willing to stay and said that it made sense that I wouldn't want to be alone with a strange man. I tried to explain that there are many more things he will need to adapt to. He didn't flinch. Just said, "I'm fucked up, too. It will be fine." Huge sigh of relief.

S did mention this the other day:
"You change your mood like twenty times a day. Well, not twenty maybe, but A LOT of times every day. The smallest thing triggers you, and I have no clue what it is or how to react."

My response:
"I was completly honest with you regarding my illnesses. I didn't wait for an episode, I told you strait up...." And a bunch of other completly defensive comments like that.

His reply:
"No baby, I'm not bitching. I just want you to tell me what I should do when you do that, that's all. I don't know how to respond to you without making you upset. Just tell me how to deal with it."

Uhhhh..... He is being completly understanding and making huge efforts. And, you know what?
I had no answers. I have spent years and years researching my illnesses, and couldn't give him a single suggestion besides...

"Either you can deal with it, or you can't"

WTF, Shannin?!?!?! Gee, why aren't people more understanding and accomodating to mental illness? Perhaps they have had an experience with an ass like me? I can not believe myself sometimes! And, even still... I don't know how to articulate how he can best deal with me other than to just ignore me, which will likely set me off at some point too.
Am I going to have to get him a copy of "Don't Walk on Eggshells"(I think that's the title)... a book about "dealing" with BPD?

Look Out Vegas.... We're Back!!!

Yup... That's right... That's me and Blither back at our "Hole in the wall" where many splendid nights of too much vodka & Red Bull, too much Toby Kieth via kareoke, and "Nam" all take place.
Prior to meeting up with Mr and Mrs Blither, my Baby took me out to a fabulous dinner at a steakhouse where I had melt-in-your-mouth-makes-you-make-the-"O"face- salmon... mmmmmmm. Then, he took me to the Comedy Stop.... fuckin' hilarious!
We then headed to the place where the drinks are weak, the service is slow and the music will arouse suicidal feelings (Like we really need help in that department!)... Why the fuck do we still go there? We have no clue.
It was so wonderful to drink, dance, and be babbling idiots with BlitherButt again! Damn, I missed that woman!

Baby decided to "sing". It was.... cute.

It was a great night... No drama, no flashbacks of Nam, no one puked.... What more could you ask for?

HNT

Pouting as I melt away.

Ugh....There is no better word for this than Ugh

Sorry I didn't get back sooner. I've had my kids and the batteries on the cordless mouse died (cordless mice... are they called "mice?... anyway... they are completely worthless and are only cool the first time someone sees one). Anyway.. Moving along...

I went to the hospital and here is what happened...
*Waited FOREVER
*Got a call from Blither... I'm gonna return it sometime soon, too ;)... It was good to hear her voice after all this time.
*Waited MORE
*Finally got back to a bed... and WAITED
*Eventually got an IV... which was connected to NOTHING... and blood drawn
*A while later, I got two Tylenol and meds for nausea
*Got a catheder that no amount of begging, crying, and barganing got me out of
*Had fluids attached to my IV
*Had major panic attacks while stuck in bed WAITING
*Got an ultra painful ultrasound (yes, they can be invasive!)
*Found out the ultrasound didn't show a DAMN THING... except possibly a gestational sack, but no fetus
*Found out my pregnancy hormone levels were at 5000.... 2000 means you are pregnant

SO....
According to hormone levels, I should be further along than my last period would suggest. However, if they go by hormone levels they should be able to see a fetus via ultrasound. So, basicially, we know nothing. Either I am only as far as my last period suggests, or I am further and already lost the baby.

HOWEVER...
I am still in severe pain and spotting.... UGH

Somehow, I have seemed to manage maintaining some sort of a stable mindset through this. Although, I am a bit worried about my future life.... with a man I don't feel has not been there for me enough through this. The other side of me knows I am being incredibly demanding and that he is trying so hard he cries....
Fuck! I am an asshole..... But, until I am out of pain, I am excusing myself, damn it!

Here's me and my Baby on a lake cruise he took me on to try to cheer me up....

More Fucking News

I guess whoever is runnin' shit had other plans..... I woke up today and began bleeding. I am headed to the hospital and will know more from there. I am assuming they will perform a D&C and I have no clue what that will be like or what to expect after that. For now, I am alone and in pain. S had to go to work, so P is coming to get me and take me to the hospital. Why couldn't he be as good as a husband as he is as an ex?

And, now, completely off topic... but oh so typical of me.... Here is an updated pic of me, it's been a while since anyone has seen me.... Fuck, I'm random!