I think I need one of those throat scope things done. I gotten this pain off and on for at least a year now that feels like a piece of glass is stuck in my throat/chest. I think it's usually worse when I swallow pills or eat something chocolaty, but I'm not sure. Tonight it's been terrible. It started around noon and hasn't let up. I put up with it through water aerobics and now I'm just annoyed. I'm making some ginger pu-erh to see if that helps. Ginger is supposed to be good for your gut. I've probably got a tear or ulcer or something from taking so many OTC pain pills. I've been trying to avoid those recently and am sticking to the muscle relaxers the doctor gave me.
I also had this rumbling that started around the same time as the esophagus pain. It got worse after water aerobics and I had to lie down. Eventually I got diarrhea. It started out mostly solid and has gradually lessened in frequency and is completely liquid now. At least I feel a bit better now.
Oh, and my knee hurts. When I walk it feels like it needs to pop. I get that feeling in my hips sometimes, but they usually pop immediately. It hurts like hell for a second and then feels better. My knee isn't doing that though. It's the stupid knee I hurt in middle school playing softball. The doctor then said there was fluid on it that couldn't be drained and it would give me fits when I was older. I'm sure he didn't mean at the age of 29, but he probably wasn't assuming I'd be a gelatinous blob.
How is it I don't have cankles yet?
About Me
- Fatbutt McGee
- A menopausal 30 year old, over two years after hysterectomy, struggling with body changes and weight gain.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Fuck the Holidays
The only reason to look forward to the holidays is a day off of work. Since I don't have a job, I don't care. The other reason is to see family you don't often get to see, but I'm near my mom and my sisters visit a lot.
I got to Grinnell on Wednesday night and hung out with Squirt and Tron. We watched Louis C.K, which always cheers me up.
Thursday though, sheesh. I got to sleep around 2 am, and felt like I slept well. Mom and Squirt were bugging me to go to bed at 11, and for some reason that made me mad. I put the quote up on facebook, so you've all probably seen it. Mom was just calmly telling me to try and sleep, and I was freaking out and accused her of yelling, because in my head it felt like I was getting chewed out.
I heard Mom and Squirt being busy in the kitchen the next morning, so I actually woke up around 8 am. Mom came in and got me at 11:30 and I didn't put up a fight. However, the mattress she has hurts my back something fierce, so upon waking me she inadvertently woke a raging bitch. I was having a dream that I was trying out for some super girl band, and there was a series of tests I had to go through, but I couldn't pass them because someone kept putting an ice pick in my spine. I was roused several times only to realize the pain from the dream was fucking real. At one point I yelled out from the pain, but I don't think anyone heard me.
When I was officially awake, I hobbled around some and was annoyed by my mom and sister's perky disposition. I had 3 things on my mind: my back, my weight, and my dad. Sometimes seeing his stuff at Mom's place gets to me, and automatically puts me in a foul mood. My psychiatrist said not to worry, that my irritation is completely normal and will get better with time.
My back, duh, hurt, so I didn't want to go anywhere. Then when I got out of the shower I was greeted by Mom's large mirrors. I don't dry off in front of a mirror at home, and can't really see past my torso in that thing anyway, but Mom's are a lot bigger and were right in my face. I was lifting my belly rolls to dry off and I totally broke down and bawled. I made sure the fan in the bathroom was on and the door was shut because I didn't want anyone to hear me. So I sobbed in my towel for awhile. Mom tried to come in once and I told her to get out, and Squirt came in once and I told her to leave me alone. I can't stand the idea of my family seeing how gross I am. And I certainly didn't want to go to Thanksgiving at my cousin's, but I went anyway. Thank god they have dogs. When we pulled in the driveway I remembered there were puppies waiting for me, so while everyone else went inside, I played with the dogs for a bit. One of them is a golden lab type named Rusty, and the other is a Husky or Malamute or mix named Bella.
You can't stay grumpy in the May house for very long. Kathy May, my cousin, is just goddamn hilarious. She's the best story teller and you never get that awkward, "there's nothing to say" vibe when you're around her. Her daughter Shannon is getting married in 10 months or so, and told Kathy she needs to work on her inside voice, or, her "wedding voice" since she's pretty loud. So all afternoon she'd stop talking and go, "oh excuse me, I forgot my wedding voice." Maybe you had to be there, but it was so funny. She just said it with so much sarcasm. At one point we were all sitting around doing a puzzle and she corrected her voice volume again, and I said, "you know, when you're using your wedding volume, your voice takes on a sort of 900 number tone, so I think you're pretty much screwed since being loud and being sultry are inappropriate." She was like, "TIFFINI, your truth is not welcome here!" We had a good laugh. We were talking about Facebook some and I said I don't keep many friends on it because I don't want people to know what a bad person I am. Kathy looks at me and goes, "don't you think that's pretty much not a secret anymore?" Hilarious.
We Skyped with Shannon for a little bit since she was at her fiance's house.
There are 3 kids, Shannon, Patrick, and Alex. Shannon is the oldest and loves travel. She's fluent in Spanish and does some translation work, I believe. She's spent a lot of time in Spain, which is where Alex, the youngest, is right now. Kathy was telling us the family he's staying with has this little 4 year old girl that is just totally enamored with him. Kathy was like, "she hangs all over him, and he is getting just what he deserves because he's always been a trouble maker." Again, you probably had to be there. Kathy was expressing some irritation that he's not more fluent in Spanish. The middle kid, Patrick, is kind of quiet and is happy working in Maquoketa as a truck dispatcher. He likes being near home. Maybe it's a middle child thing. I've never felt the need to go off on my own far away, and I don't crave job success and recognition, (don't get me wrong, I'll travel if the opportunity presents itself, but I don't have this need for wild, global exploits). I'm just happy when I'm able to pay my bills and sleep in a bed that doesn't hurt my back. Patrick is fluent in Japanese, but he's so quiet, you'd never guess it.
Anyway, we left the May's around 5 and then went to see the crazies and bring them food. I was completely uninterested in talking to any of them and I wasn't hungry, so I just sat on the couch and talked to Bryan. He was sensing my irritation so he joined me on the couch and we laughed at various internet memes.
My cousin is getting a little bit of a baby bump, and she's just as goddamn fake as ever. I seriously hope that baby dies. I don't care how. Miscarriage, suffocated by one of Tawny's 8 cats, SIDS, whatever. She will be the worst mother ever. Trust me when I say the baby is better off dead.
My aunt started off in dramatic fashion, but then drifted off to another room and was mostly quiet. When we came in she started hugging me and goes, "I've just been crying all day, I miss your dad so much." I wanted to punch her. Mostly because she never sounds sincere when she says it. She says it in a way that will garner attention. The whole "oh poor me" routine. I swore to myself that if I heard her say anything like, "it's so important for family to stick together," or something like that, that I would slay her immediately. Luckily for us both, she never uttered those words.
Oh yeah, go figure, the animals at that place are stupid, and I hate them. There's a snotty cockatiel that will try to bite you. I fucking hate birds. There's a cat that always runs from me because she only likes men, and there's a shitty little spaniel my aunt inherited from her recently deceased friend that bit my hand the last time I was there, so I hate it. Fucking bitey little goddamn dog. I'm sure my aunt is damaging it the way she damages all of her animals, like the dog she used to have that she masturbated. Yeah. The "red rocket" game from Southpark? That's her.
We didn't stay very long, and now I'm in Davenport with Tyne and B-Rye until Saturday. Bryan said we may go to the shooting range tomorrow, which would be awesome since I've only ever fired a BB gun. I'm sure I'll suck because of the palsy, but whatever. I'd like to know how to handle a gun when the zombie apocalypse comes.
Saturday we go to my good aunt's house on my mom's side of the famliy. I have the same dread that I had for today, but at least one of my aunts that will be there had gastric bypass a long time ago, so they all understand weight bullshit, and they won't be fake or delusional or crazy.
I got to Grinnell on Wednesday night and hung out with Squirt and Tron. We watched Louis C.K, which always cheers me up.
Thursday though, sheesh. I got to sleep around 2 am, and felt like I slept well. Mom and Squirt were bugging me to go to bed at 11, and for some reason that made me mad. I put the quote up on facebook, so you've all probably seen it. Mom was just calmly telling me to try and sleep, and I was freaking out and accused her of yelling, because in my head it felt like I was getting chewed out.
I heard Mom and Squirt being busy in the kitchen the next morning, so I actually woke up around 8 am. Mom came in and got me at 11:30 and I didn't put up a fight. However, the mattress she has hurts my back something fierce, so upon waking me she inadvertently woke a raging bitch. I was having a dream that I was trying out for some super girl band, and there was a series of tests I had to go through, but I couldn't pass them because someone kept putting an ice pick in my spine. I was roused several times only to realize the pain from the dream was fucking real. At one point I yelled out from the pain, but I don't think anyone heard me.
When I was officially awake, I hobbled around some and was annoyed by my mom and sister's perky disposition. I had 3 things on my mind: my back, my weight, and my dad. Sometimes seeing his stuff at Mom's place gets to me, and automatically puts me in a foul mood. My psychiatrist said not to worry, that my irritation is completely normal and will get better with time.
My back, duh, hurt, so I didn't want to go anywhere. Then when I got out of the shower I was greeted by Mom's large mirrors. I don't dry off in front of a mirror at home, and can't really see past my torso in that thing anyway, but Mom's are a lot bigger and were right in my face. I was lifting my belly rolls to dry off and I totally broke down and bawled. I made sure the fan in the bathroom was on and the door was shut because I didn't want anyone to hear me. So I sobbed in my towel for awhile. Mom tried to come in once and I told her to get out, and Squirt came in once and I told her to leave me alone. I can't stand the idea of my family seeing how gross I am. And I certainly didn't want to go to Thanksgiving at my cousin's, but I went anyway. Thank god they have dogs. When we pulled in the driveway I remembered there were puppies waiting for me, so while everyone else went inside, I played with the dogs for a bit. One of them is a golden lab type named Rusty, and the other is a Husky or Malamute or mix named Bella.
You can't stay grumpy in the May house for very long. Kathy May, my cousin, is just goddamn hilarious. She's the best story teller and you never get that awkward, "there's nothing to say" vibe when you're around her. Her daughter Shannon is getting married in 10 months or so, and told Kathy she needs to work on her inside voice, or, her "wedding voice" since she's pretty loud. So all afternoon she'd stop talking and go, "oh excuse me, I forgot my wedding voice." Maybe you had to be there, but it was so funny. She just said it with so much sarcasm. At one point we were all sitting around doing a puzzle and she corrected her voice volume again, and I said, "you know, when you're using your wedding volume, your voice takes on a sort of 900 number tone, so I think you're pretty much screwed since being loud and being sultry are inappropriate." She was like, "TIFFINI, your truth is not welcome here!" We had a good laugh. We were talking about Facebook some and I said I don't keep many friends on it because I don't want people to know what a bad person I am. Kathy looks at me and goes, "don't you think that's pretty much not a secret anymore?" Hilarious.
We Skyped with Shannon for a little bit since she was at her fiance's house.
There are 3 kids, Shannon, Patrick, and Alex. Shannon is the oldest and loves travel. She's fluent in Spanish and does some translation work, I believe. She's spent a lot of time in Spain, which is where Alex, the youngest, is right now. Kathy was telling us the family he's staying with has this little 4 year old girl that is just totally enamored with him. Kathy was like, "she hangs all over him, and he is getting just what he deserves because he's always been a trouble maker." Again, you probably had to be there. Kathy was expressing some irritation that he's not more fluent in Spanish. The middle kid, Patrick, is kind of quiet and is happy working in Maquoketa as a truck dispatcher. He likes being near home. Maybe it's a middle child thing. I've never felt the need to go off on my own far away, and I don't crave job success and recognition, (don't get me wrong, I'll travel if the opportunity presents itself, but I don't have this need for wild, global exploits). I'm just happy when I'm able to pay my bills and sleep in a bed that doesn't hurt my back. Patrick is fluent in Japanese, but he's so quiet, you'd never guess it.
Anyway, we left the May's around 5 and then went to see the crazies and bring them food. I was completely uninterested in talking to any of them and I wasn't hungry, so I just sat on the couch and talked to Bryan. He was sensing my irritation so he joined me on the couch and we laughed at various internet memes.
My cousin is getting a little bit of a baby bump, and she's just as goddamn fake as ever. I seriously hope that baby dies. I don't care how. Miscarriage, suffocated by one of Tawny's 8 cats, SIDS, whatever. She will be the worst mother ever. Trust me when I say the baby is better off dead.
My aunt started off in dramatic fashion, but then drifted off to another room and was mostly quiet. When we came in she started hugging me and goes, "I've just been crying all day, I miss your dad so much." I wanted to punch her. Mostly because she never sounds sincere when she says it. She says it in a way that will garner attention. The whole "oh poor me" routine. I swore to myself that if I heard her say anything like, "it's so important for family to stick together," or something like that, that I would slay her immediately. Luckily for us both, she never uttered those words.
Oh yeah, go figure, the animals at that place are stupid, and I hate them. There's a snotty cockatiel that will try to bite you. I fucking hate birds. There's a cat that always runs from me because she only likes men, and there's a shitty little spaniel my aunt inherited from her recently deceased friend that bit my hand the last time I was there, so I hate it. Fucking bitey little goddamn dog. I'm sure my aunt is damaging it the way she damages all of her animals, like the dog she used to have that she masturbated. Yeah. The "red rocket" game from Southpark? That's her.
We didn't stay very long, and now I'm in Davenport with Tyne and B-Rye until Saturday. Bryan said we may go to the shooting range tomorrow, which would be awesome since I've only ever fired a BB gun. I'm sure I'll suck because of the palsy, but whatever. I'd like to know how to handle a gun when the zombie apocalypse comes.
Saturday we go to my good aunt's house on my mom's side of the famliy. I have the same dread that I had for today, but at least one of my aunts that will be there had gastric bypass a long time ago, so they all understand weight bullshit, and they won't be fake or delusional or crazy.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
300
I was wondering when I'd see that 3 in front of the other two numbers in my weight. I went to the doctor today. She's going to back date all of my gastric bypass forms for insurance. She said, "you've been at this for quite awhile, there's no reason to start from scratch and make you more miserable." She asked about my back and I told her it's always been shitty. Then I started bawling. Just from a culmination of horse shit. She's got me on 2 muscle relaxers now. One has a pain killer in it. If that doesn't work I'm supposed to call in. She had me stand and try flexing my back in different positions. Then she had me lay down and tried lifting my legs. She could barely move my left leg because my hamstrings are so tight, so I'm supposed to really try and stretch those.
I still feel like shit, and the cats have done nothing but piss me off today, so I'm playing Left 4 Dead with Nathan in an attempt to cheer up.
I still feel like shit, and the cats have done nothing but piss me off today, so I'm playing Left 4 Dead with Nathan in an attempt to cheer up.
Monday, November 14, 2011
An Idea
I'm trying to draw more. It helps my mood, I'm relatively good at it, and I can possibly sell it. I'm having a problem that I've always had when it comes to drawing. I can never decide on a subject matter, so I'm all over the map. My professor in college scolded me for not developing a signature style. Well I've got kind of an impressionist style down, but I still want for ideas.
A co-worker from Iowa Telecom, Shari Workman, is a fantastic photographer and has given me permission to use her photographs to draw from. Right now I'm so reluctant to put stuff up on Etsy because of copyright stuff. I've always just grabbed photos off the internet to draw from.
So.... I had a new idea. I've always loved human anatomy and that was the main thing I drew in college. Since I'm in this sort of limbo full of turmoil regarding my body, I feel like I should draw myself. I don't want to sit in front of a mirror because I just can't hold still for very long.
I just need a lamp for more extreme light and dark and a sheet to put behind me or on the ground. I'm not sure who I'd ask to take my picture. I'm leaning toward Squirt or Dee right now. I think this could be therapeutic, like Mary Lundberg's cancer art.
A co-worker from Iowa Telecom, Shari Workman, is a fantastic photographer and has given me permission to use her photographs to draw from. Right now I'm so reluctant to put stuff up on Etsy because of copyright stuff. I've always just grabbed photos off the internet to draw from.
So.... I had a new idea. I've always loved human anatomy and that was the main thing I drew in college. Since I'm in this sort of limbo full of turmoil regarding my body, I feel like I should draw myself. I don't want to sit in front of a mirror because I just can't hold still for very long.
I just need a lamp for more extreme light and dark and a sheet to put behind me or on the ground. I'm not sure who I'd ask to take my picture. I'm leaning toward Squirt or Dee right now. I think this could be therapeutic, like Mary Lundberg's cancer art.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Fuck
My self esteem has really hit the skids. I can't stand the look of my body. I can't stand the look of my face. I don't want Nathan to touch me. I don't want to go out, and I don't want people to see me. I feel like the fattest thing on the planet. I feel like a slug. I feel guilty about everything I eat, even if it's a carrot, and I feel guilty every time I feel hungry. I think, "you shouldn't be hungry, fatty. You should never eat again." My hot flashes have been terrible and every time I wake up, whether it be in the morning or afternoon, I'm soaked in sweat.
Skinner is supposed to come over sometime this weekend to look at one of Dad's violins he was interested in buying. I don't want him to come over because I'm a blob. I didn't even want my mom to see me tonight because of the way I look. The person on this planet that couldn't possibly love me anymore, and I don't want her to look at me.
I have a doctors appointment on Tuesday. I'll be taking the sheets they gave me at the fat clinic for her to fill out. Maybe she'll hear my plea and back date some of them so I don't have to keep waiting and waiting for insurance approval. After the 6 months of doctor supervised diet, the only thing I have left to do is the 4 fat classes. The session for this month started last Wednesday. I thought all day about going, but couldn't bring myself to go because I didn't want to go out in public, even if it's to benefit my weight loss! How stupid can I get?? I'd be surrounded by people like me! It's completely unreasonable, but I can barely describe the depth of self loathing I feel. I wonder how much I'll weight when I go to the doctor. Last time I was 290. I'm probably up to 500 or something. I hate myself.
Skinner is supposed to come over sometime this weekend to look at one of Dad's violins he was interested in buying. I don't want him to come over because I'm a blob. I didn't even want my mom to see me tonight because of the way I look. The person on this planet that couldn't possibly love me anymore, and I don't want her to look at me.
I have a doctors appointment on Tuesday. I'll be taking the sheets they gave me at the fat clinic for her to fill out. Maybe she'll hear my plea and back date some of them so I don't have to keep waiting and waiting for insurance approval. After the 6 months of doctor supervised diet, the only thing I have left to do is the 4 fat classes. The session for this month started last Wednesday. I thought all day about going, but couldn't bring myself to go because I didn't want to go out in public, even if it's to benefit my weight loss! How stupid can I get?? I'd be surrounded by people like me! It's completely unreasonable, but I can barely describe the depth of self loathing I feel. I wonder how much I'll weight when I go to the doctor. Last time I was 290. I'm probably up to 500 or something. I hate myself.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Erg
I am in a horrible mood. I've been snapping at everyone. I'm not mad about anything, I'm just in pain. It's my back AGAIN. This time it's weird, it only really hurts when I'm standing up or sitting in a certain position. If I lay down it goes away completely. Mom stopped over here tonight to drop some stuff off on her way to church, and I bit her head off, along with Nathan's.
I don't think anyone can really understand unless they have a bad back. Mom also asked if I'd made any progress with the bypass surgery. That made me snap again. While being obese doesn't help my back at all, it's not the cause of the pain. Mom said something about how maybe they'd address my back pain after the surgery. I barked that I don't need a diagnosis, I just need to go to the chiro twice a week until I feel better. I haven't been to the chiro forever. Several months. My insurance only pays for so many visits, and I reached the max a long time ago.
I already know what's wrong with my back. I don't need anyone to tell me what's wrong. I need to lose weight so I can actually stretch again. Oh yeah, Mom asked if I was stretching to loosen up my muscles, and I yelled, "I'M TOO FAT TO STRETCH!" And I am. It's easier when I'm in the water, but my gut really gets in the way.
So then I had to apologize to Mom and Nathan, but I wanted them both to just go away. It just hurts so bad, and I hate living in this body.
Has anyone seen the movie Powder? There's a part where a group of guys go hunting, and while a deer that has been shot is dying, Powder touches the arm of the hunter and the neck of the dear, and transfers the fear and pain into the hunter. I wish I could do that. I feel like people think I'm faking it or it's not as bad as I make it out to be. I wish I could just touch them and then they'd know.
At this point I don't even care if I get hooked on pain killers. I DON'T CARE. I just don't want to hurt anymore. I'm getting scolded for all the OTC medicine I take to try and dull the pain. I know I take way too much. I know it's hurting my stomach and my liver. I'm not a moron. But there's a trade off. Just like there was a trade off with my hysterectomy. I have hot flashes and other problems now, but it sure as hell beats being doubled over in pain all the time.
When I was referred to Marshalltown for my pelvic pain, before the first laparoscopy I had where they tried to burn off the endometriosis, I was telling the doctor how I coped with the pain. I told her I could go through a whole bottle of Aleve in a day, and if that didn't help, I'd have a friend squeeze my hand as hard as they could, until I yelled out that it was too much. It distracted me from the stabbing sensations in my gut.
It wasn't until after that that my doctor gave me Tylenol 3, and eventually Tylenol 4 for the pain. They wouldn't give me anything until they could actually SEE one of my ovaries sticking to my uterus. I wasn't making it up. I'M NOT MAKING IT UP NOW!
I'm always nice to people on the phone, but when I called my doctor's nurse, I bit her head off too. She was taking her sweet time looking up my info, and I was holding my breath because my back hurt so bad, and finally I just said, "hurry it up!!!"
I'm tempted to go to the ER, but I don't want the bill, and I don't want to have to wait for a bunch of x-rays and listen to lectures about my weight. And I don't want steroids. They always make me feel weird and puffy, and I'm fat enough as it is.
All of this bullshit making me feel bad for Nathan. I hurt too much for sex. I hurt too much to shower and put on clothes, and I hurt too much to do housework. (I do most of the housework anyway, so that shouldn't bother me as much as it does. He doesn't need a medal for vacuuming and loading the dishwasher and taking out the trash). So he comes home to me, laying on the couch in my underwear, stinking to high heaven. I'd like to feel good so I can actually get up and put some makeup on and give him a quality bj after a long day at work. Poor guy.
Although he's the one I'd most like to have feel the pain I'm in. I really don't think he gets it. And he makes the biggest fuss over little injuries he gets. Come on over to my world for a day, baby. You'll wish you were dead.
I don't think anyone can really understand unless they have a bad back. Mom also asked if I'd made any progress with the bypass surgery. That made me snap again. While being obese doesn't help my back at all, it's not the cause of the pain. Mom said something about how maybe they'd address my back pain after the surgery. I barked that I don't need a diagnosis, I just need to go to the chiro twice a week until I feel better. I haven't been to the chiro forever. Several months. My insurance only pays for so many visits, and I reached the max a long time ago.
I already know what's wrong with my back. I don't need anyone to tell me what's wrong. I need to lose weight so I can actually stretch again. Oh yeah, Mom asked if I was stretching to loosen up my muscles, and I yelled, "I'M TOO FAT TO STRETCH!" And I am. It's easier when I'm in the water, but my gut really gets in the way.
So then I had to apologize to Mom and Nathan, but I wanted them both to just go away. It just hurts so bad, and I hate living in this body.
Has anyone seen the movie Powder? There's a part where a group of guys go hunting, and while a deer that has been shot is dying, Powder touches the arm of the hunter and the neck of the dear, and transfers the fear and pain into the hunter. I wish I could do that. I feel like people think I'm faking it or it's not as bad as I make it out to be. I wish I could just touch them and then they'd know.
At this point I don't even care if I get hooked on pain killers. I DON'T CARE. I just don't want to hurt anymore. I'm getting scolded for all the OTC medicine I take to try and dull the pain. I know I take way too much. I know it's hurting my stomach and my liver. I'm not a moron. But there's a trade off. Just like there was a trade off with my hysterectomy. I have hot flashes and other problems now, but it sure as hell beats being doubled over in pain all the time.
When I was referred to Marshalltown for my pelvic pain, before the first laparoscopy I had where they tried to burn off the endometriosis, I was telling the doctor how I coped with the pain. I told her I could go through a whole bottle of Aleve in a day, and if that didn't help, I'd have a friend squeeze my hand as hard as they could, until I yelled out that it was too much. It distracted me from the stabbing sensations in my gut.
It wasn't until after that that my doctor gave me Tylenol 3, and eventually Tylenol 4 for the pain. They wouldn't give me anything until they could actually SEE one of my ovaries sticking to my uterus. I wasn't making it up. I'M NOT MAKING IT UP NOW!
I'm always nice to people on the phone, but when I called my doctor's nurse, I bit her head off too. She was taking her sweet time looking up my info, and I was holding my breath because my back hurt so bad, and finally I just said, "hurry it up!!!"
I'm tempted to go to the ER, but I don't want the bill, and I don't want to have to wait for a bunch of x-rays and listen to lectures about my weight. And I don't want steroids. They always make me feel weird and puffy, and I'm fat enough as it is.
All of this bullshit making me feel bad for Nathan. I hurt too much for sex. I hurt too much to shower and put on clothes, and I hurt too much to do housework. (I do most of the housework anyway, so that shouldn't bother me as much as it does. He doesn't need a medal for vacuuming and loading the dishwasher and taking out the trash). So he comes home to me, laying on the couch in my underwear, stinking to high heaven. I'd like to feel good so I can actually get up and put some makeup on and give him a quality bj after a long day at work. Poor guy.
Although he's the one I'd most like to have feel the pain I'm in. I really don't think he gets it. And he makes the biggest fuss over little injuries he gets. Come on over to my world for a day, baby. You'll wish you were dead.
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