I have been 25 for 2 hours and 7 minutes.

Yey?

Goodness gracious. I used to be so good at this blogging thing! I've gotten quite dreadful - but unlike previous experiences with me vanishing this has an actual cause. The night I went to pick Rascal up, January 13th, I ended up in the hospital. If you follow me on twitter or watch my vlogs you'll probably already be in the know about what is going on - or at least sort of. Basically that night I went to get my lovable poochy and when I was leaving his former home with him in toe I slipped on the muddy grass. It sounds like it should be no big deal right? Just get your self up and dust yourself off silly girl... only I have [depending on who you ask] a 6-9 inch gash across the head of my knee where it split open like a peach. As it turns out when you slip and fall with your leg double backed behind you and you weigh half a ton you do serious damage to your body. The ironic part is how absolutely fine I felt. Honestly in the moment it hurt like road rash. I didn't even realize I was bleeding until I looked down at my soaked skirt and then up to mom's ashen face as she tried not to be absolutely hysterical.

It's very hard for me to write about what happened next so you're going to get the condensed version - lets just say it involved six hulking attractive EMTs to get my fat ass off the ground and leave it at that. Then I was taken by ambulance to the hospital, and spent five hours in the ER while they took x-rays and tried to decide if I would need surgery to irrigate the wound - which honestly went through all of my fat layers... seriously I am not exaggerating or putting me down you can see it in the pictures I was silly enough to take of the wound. I thought they were trying to murder me when she numbed me up. I lost all composure - which up to that point I had managed to keep despite feeling hysterical on the inside. We ended up leaving Rascal with his family for another day or two so I could get acclimated to gimping around on a busted knee without having to worry about tripping over a curious puppy.

Now a little over two weeks later and I'm limping around like a loser still. I refuse to use the walker they gave me. I'm trying to maintain some sense of physical independence and it's not really working very well for me at the moment. Honestly, I'm getting discouraged with myself. I know all the changes I want and need to make to my life to make it better for me but right now it's just physically not possible for me to do the things I want to do to. I can't even take Rascal for walks... and I now have an insane fear of damp grass. Also I'm out of good medication, which means I am feeling the full brunt of an injury that doesn't seem to want to heal. I could end up with these staples in for another week - because the damn thing is still oozing, and the doctor told me if we take them out the likelihood of it having a zipper effect is about 99.9% because of where the one spot that isn't healing is.

I sound like such a grump! I've tried to keep my spirits high but I'm failing today. It might be the weather. Anyway I turn 25 on Monday. I'm not exactly over the moon about the idea but if you didn't know that already you probably haven't known me long. I've been dreading being 25 since I was 23. So yes. To end this on a slightly better note, I will leave you with pictures of the puppy!


He doesn't really like to lay still




Unless he is in his sweater


Or getting tummy rubs!


And he's only naughty sometimes - like trying to chew Mom's straws.

I missed a day... or more. I don't even remember. They seem to be running together lately. I think it's because my sleep pattern is all wonky. I was hoping to have the house ready for Rascal today but I'm not going to make it.Mom was too exhausted to help. Well that isn't true, she worked for about two hours on the living room, but it's just not enough. I can't believe we let things get so bad. I think we were both in denial, when you get sick you just want to pretend everything is functioning like normal even if it isn't. Then we took a break to pay some bills and all that. We stopped for lunch after paying the phone bill and Pita Pit is right next to Verizon. I have fallen in love... however their mascot costume cracks me up.



I know it's supposed to look like a Pita... but it basically looks like a giant potato to me. Despite their not-quite-right mascot however, I am happy to report lunch was the best I've had in ages. Mom got a gyro and I got something called a Dagwood - which has like ham and roast beef and turkey on it. Next time I want to try their Hummus special or maybe the Baba Ganoush. Right now I'm watching The Charlie Brown and Snoopy show on fancast and drinking cold coco. Haha I let it sit too long and now it's ice cold. That defeats the purpose but it's still nommy. Or I guess in this case I guess slurp-y. I really am counting the days until I can bring Rascal home. Mom thinks it's going to be a disaster but I don't feel that way. And I haven't been this excited or happy about anything in a really long time. I need it to be good you know? Anyway tomorrow I'm getting my hair cut. I can't wait. I'm getting kind of tired of the mess I've got now. I mean it' long and I guess it's pretty, but it reminds me of Micheal and Jim too much. They both liked it long so they could play with it. Screw that noise. I want something it takes less that fifteen minutes to wash and condition... and less than 40 to style.

Today was not a bad day. In fact, today was kind of lovely. I got the UA results last night and much to my doctors surprise there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with my bladder which is NOT how my body is acting at the moment. So she ordered bloodtests which I went in for this morning. After that we went to see the Cousin-Monster and her Baby-Monster and had a sweet visit. Momster gave Clara Joy her bottle and then Clara Joy decided to fall asleep. I haven't held her yet because I've either been sick or had something growing on my face since she was born right before Thanksgiving. I still don't feel 100% healthy but I am on an up swing, even if my bladder doesn't like me right now. Anyway then Mom and I came home and we both napped. She has a habit of waking me up when she gets in from work which means I'm up for most of the morning by myself reading or watching dvds. It's been a very lonely existence.

All of that is soon to change however. On the off chance you aren't my friend on facebook, don't follow me on twitter, or aren't someone I text regularly, I am getting a dog. He's a one year old Jack Russel terrier mix, his name is Rascal, he loves to be a lap dog and sleep under the covers. He barks a bit when someone is at the door but really his owner is trying to give him away because she feels it's unfair to keep him when they can't give him the attention he needs. I am awesome at giving attention. I also like getting attention. I have to check with the property manager but in all honesty besides the fact the lease says we can have a small dog - up to 10 pounds, if I were to get a note from my doctor or therapist saying that it's part of treatment for chronic anxiety they can't deny it without giving us grounds to sue in return under the American's With Disabilities Act. Be aware of your civil liberties kiddos, and all possible treatments for your health issues. I think my panic attacks have gotten so much worse BECAUSE I don't have anyone to take care of. Before we moved I had the cats to love me and keep me company. Now I'm alone save for an hour or so that Mom can make herself stay awake after she gets home from work.

Anyway! The whole thing with Rascal just feels sort of meant to be. When I was reading his description I fell instantly in love and I knew it was really real love because I didn't care he was a boy. Since we had to give the cats away a year and a half ago I've looked at other dogs but I was specific about wanting a girl, and all the girl dogs I found and loved at shelters or rescue centers were too big. Rascal is exactly the right size, he's energetic without being too over the top according to his current owner and... for the first time in weeks I feel happy. I feel like I have a purpose. They may sound strange, but part of the sickness I've always struggled with is making taking care of myself enough of a reason to keep doing it. When I cook I cook for other people, when I do laundry I do it for Mom, when I make myself do my hair and make up I do it because people have a certain expectation for me and how I will look. When I take care of others I take care of myself. I know I should get up and go for a walk, but I don't like myself enough to give myself that, I'll do it for the dog. I don't like being social but taking him to the dog park so HE can be social won't be a problem. Does any of this make sense to anyone else? Probably not. I'm cuckoo bananas. Anyway I will leave you with this lovely image of my soon-to-be-new-baby!

Hello my lovely interwebers. How I love thee, well for today at least. Let's see, therapy with Anders was not as horrible as I thought it would be. It was really actually very comfortable. We had a meeting after group and we talked my worries out and I found myself feeling comfortable enough to open up to him right away. He's never nonjudgmental which is nice. Then this morning I had a doctors appointment because I've been having bladder issues but the UA came back with nothing that says I should be having bladder issues. So we're doing blood work tomorrow to see if it's diabetes. I am both scared... and in a way hopeful that that will be the answer. Scared because it's a horrible thing to live with and hopeful because if my body has decided to betray me at least in this one case it means something helpful. Diabetes is just about the only way OHP will pay for me to have gastric bypass/the lap band done. So, you know, it's split down the middle. I did figure out what has been making me want to slit my wrists this last week and making me so hyper emotional, I started my period. So no, I'm not really going to off myself, I just felt like it because my PMS crosses over into the PMDD category. It sucks ass but at least I can go "Ok. Wow! I haven't lost my fucking mind".

I've been trying to post videos on youtube. That's going fairly well. I've been dailyboothing and twittering. Anyone who read my old journal knows that though haha. In other other news I am looking at dogs. Actually I am looking at two dogs, on craigslist. One is a Jack Russel who seems just about perfect in terms of needing attention all the time, wanting to be close, liking to sleep on the bed and the other is a Puggle which is freaking adorable. I am hesitant about the Puggle because there wasn't a lot of information provided and I know that they can have a LOT of health problems. I kind of got suckered in by the cute face. The reason I'm leaning more toward the JR is because I didn't even pause to consider the fact from day one when Mom and I were talking about me getting dog I said I wanted a girl, all my humane society searches have been for girls, I've just dismissed male dogs out of hand because For the most part in my life the only males with really great temperaments I've come across were my cousins' dogs and they were all big lovable labs or retrievers or lab/retriever mixes. You really can't go wrong with either sex when it comes to THOSE breeds of dog in my expeiernce.

However when I read the add I was just kind of like... this dog sounds perfect for me. It seems to already have all of the things I need/want in a puppy-who-is-not-really-a-puppy. So I sent off those emails and will see what I hear back. I am trying not to get my hopes up too high because I know that in the long run lots of things get in the way, yadda yadda yadda. The other problem could be that they need the animals taken right away and I have to get clearance from the landlord. I mean it says in our rental agreement that we can have a dog so long as it is 8 pounds or less... the Jack is 12 but I'll lie. It's not that much bigger, it can't cause that much damage, according to the owner he doesn't tear things up OR dig which would be awesome. Then in the spring we can take him to the dog park. Gaah. Can't let myself plan too far ahead. First I have to find out if he's still needing a home, then I have to get our home ready for him, and in other awesome news I am cutting off my hair Saturday. I think with the style/cut I want, I'm going to lose about 10-12 inches in the back. It just feels like dead weight right now you know? And in even better other news Mom's job at the call center has survived another round of layoffs.

Yeeeeeey!

Already falling off this writing every single day thing. I guess it's because last night had me so upset and then it carried over to this morning. More hateful comments, more retarded people using the internet to voice bigotry and hate because they find it amusing. I don't understand people at all. I think I'm through trying for awhile. I just want life to fit together for a little while. I want things to be familiar again - I want to not feel so alone in my own skin. I know that I've pushed away from people. I know that I grow silent and still and don't reach out when I need people the most. It all goes back to my desire to be loved in a certain way and reaching to people who are incapable of loving in that way. It's like my dad - I've often used the analogy that I want him to be a puppy, to love me like a puppy loves someone, but he can't do that because he's a goldfish - and no amount of punishing myself, or trying to be someone else is ever going to make him be a puppy because he wasn't born that way. In theory this idea is very comforting... but when you need a puppy and what you've got is a fish... well nothing makes you feel very good. It doesn't matter how you dress it up or what you try to do at the end of the day you still want that love and even though other people are giving you all kinds of love and support all you can think about is how you don't have a puppy... and you want a puppy so bad it hurts. It hurts even more when you realize that you had a puppy once... and I did. My cousin Michael stepped in a lot for Dad when I was younger. I've spent my whole life hearing about how much he loved me, but more than that I remember how much he loved me before he died. I was only five, but I think something I've carried with me my whole life is that no matter how much anyone loves you they will eventually leave you. It doesn't matter if they're a gold fish or a puppy or cat or a person... eventually all love ends, or changes. I used to try to beat everyone to the punch, to leave first... now I don't even try to put myself out there to be loved. Somehow it seems like it should hurt less to be alone than the pain that comes later from loving. Only as I'm coming closer to the moment I turn 25 I'm finding lonely to be the worst possible way of being.
xoxox
- S J

Today I would like to vent about how fracking stupid people are - only that sort of sums it up doesn't it? I posted a picture of my list of resolutions on dailybooth earlier and some troll felt the need to come up with the brilliant comment "why don't you just EXERCISE to lose the weight like a normal person". This comment pisses me off on several levels. First of all because this person doesn't know me from Eve, second of all because it feeds into the flat out WRONG idea that surgery is somehow an "easy" answer, a "quick fix". I have watched both the physical and emotional turmoil that one has to go through once they have surgery. I have watched two people I love very much struggle and worry and in one case become a hard core alcoholic because you have to replace that addiction to food, the euphoria eating gives you with something else. I'm watching it kill her because she can't get right in her head. Gastric Bypass, the Lap Band, none of it just makes things better. It takes work, a lot of work. It takes you being willing to face down what drove you to become the size you are or risk losing it all in the long run anyway. That isn't easy. It's work. It's just a different kind of work. And in all honesty there comes a point when exercise and eating right aren't a viable option. When a person weighs so much they can barely walk to their car without getting winded, when their mind is such a mess that they don't want to be seen eating, medical conditions like thyroid disorders all of it plays into a persons ability or more to the point inability to lose weight. It makes me ANGRY that people don't understand this. It makes me ANGRY that I feel like I have to defend myself. It makes me ANGRY that I have to justify wanting to do something good for myself for once... it makes me angry at myself that I let a perfect stranger make me feel inadequate because I can't do it the "normal" way.

I have never let anyone tell me what is normal. Even when I was an insecure bulimic mess, I never once let myself say "this isn't normal" - even though it wasn't. I did what the fuck I wanted. I was weird. I made myself be ok with that. Deep down maybe I wanted to be accepted but I've always wanted it to be on my terms. I never wanted to be one of the brain dead mind washed masses. I've driven myself to destruction but it was on MY terms, MY demons. I just don't even know anymore. I want to be someone else. This isn't an unfamiliar feeling, I've often wanted to slip out of my body like a snake shedding it's skin. Just let all the bad things sluff off leave the bulky mass in the corner. The person I am doesn't belong in this skin. It's cumbersome and slow. It makes it impossible to do things I love to do, it makes me feel unworthy of being with the people I love. I hate that.I was starting to let go of that idea. I've retreated so much into my folds of fat. I've lost relationships because I don't feel... deserving of the love they give me. I miss Bethy. I miss my dad, I miss... everyone I've shut out the last few months... it's funny how the amount of weight I carry on my frame still dictates who I feel should love me. It isn't a fair decision I make when I pull away from people because I feel undeserving. It's just one of those things I guess. I want to be someone they can be proud of, and I don't feel like I can right now because I'm not proud of me. It's a sickness I've battled for a long time.

In other news I will be cutting off all my hair. Well to be more to the point and not form any confusion I am going to cut off most of my hair. I think I want something a little like Kellie Pickler had a while back. It's long in the front, short in the back, sleek A-line. I'm ready for a change. Since I can't just step out of my body I'm going to modify what I can and hope for the best. I've had it cut like that before, it's a good look. It's a lot less work than the mop of hair I have right now. For the most part, especially the last year I've kept it long because the guys I liked liked long hair. Michael actually told me I was forbidden to cut it. I guess this is my last fuck you to him. It's a stance for my independence. The first was getting my Monroe done because he said it looked like glittery herpes. I don't even miss him anymore. I'm just done. It's sort of like that with Shaun. In a way that makes me sad but in another it makes me feel like I've stepped out from under this huge weight that dictated a lot of what I did. I've kept myself on hold. I've put people at arms length waiting for this true love to show up on my doorstep because he realized how much he threw away when it gave me up. The thing I see now is he already knows... he just isn't man enough to try and make it work. That's his issue and I can't let it be my issue anymore. I can't keep losing the pieces of myself I find because it makes it hard to wait. Does that make sense? Probably not. I guess it goes back to the idea that I kept revisiting the chapters of my old life because I am one of those people who has to know how the story ends before I get involved. I knew how it would be with Shaun, with Michael, even Jim. I knew what it would be and going back or waiting was easy because I knew how it would end... I think with Shaun I had secret hopes with enough time and love some how we could find another answer. We never did. So now I've packed up the pieces of my heart I have left, mangled though they are, at least they're mine.

xoxox
- S J

Hello Friends, Old and New!
I like to start each year fresh - with no mistakes in it.
So this year I thought I would start fresh with a new LJ.
Makes sense right? Right.
My goal is to get something written every single day.
I dunno how well it will work but I'm going to try my damnedest.
Other places to find me:
http://www.youtube.com/mendedlullaby
http://www.twitter.com/mendedlullaby
http://dailybooth.com/mendedlullaby
xoxox
SJ