Dear Me...

(and anyone else who needs it)

Get a grip.

Seriously. Enough of the bullshit.

Pull your fucking head in and get your shit together.

Every. Single. Time.

Why... Why are you apologising for feeling things? Why are you so hell bent on justifying yourself?

You are allowed to be hurt. You're allowed to be honest. You are allowed to be scared.

You are allowed.

Repeat after me.

You. Are. Allowed

I'm not here to give you a verbal beat down so that you feel worse about yourself and your situation.

You know where you went wrong, you know what you need to do, so why are you fighting it?

You know that overcompensating will only further inflame the situation. You know that the justifications and apologies mean all but nothing.

"But... how can they possibly mean nothing? I meant everything I said"

Because, Serenity!
Just because you're responding in the manner in which you would anticipate someone else to respond to a scenario, isn't necessarily how someone else is going to respond (and let's be honest here, you'd more than likely get your heckles up if you were on the receiving end of a neurosis such as yours) - so don't get so fucking uptight.

Let this sink in.

No matter what the relationship to you, how other people think and feel has nothing to do with you.

You've done all you can do, in fact you've probably done far more than you should've... But I digress.

This is your life.

You've been on this ride for 28 years. And you've been on the Pain Train with all your friends: Debby Downer, Angsty Ange and Anxiety Annie, for the last seven years.

For anyone else who decides to come along for the ride, they're going to take a while to get used to it. Lord knows that those three are obnoxious bitches at the best of time, but when you introduce the other Troublesome Trio: Lady Penelope of Pain-ville, Sleep Deprivation Suzy and her husband, Stuart Stress-man... Honey, you may as well just throw yourself in a padded cell with the "I-love-hugs" jacket, because bitches be cray... And by bitches, I mean you... You and all your friends.
You're completely out the gate, balls-to-the-wall crazy when you're dealing with all of that.

You had a freak out yesterday, and that's okay. As mentioned earlier, you are allowed, but let's rein it in and take a breather, yeah?

You have so much on your plate right now that you need to be focussed on, do not let this bump in the road completely fuck everything up for you.

Focus on the bigger picture. You set goals for yourself, don't let something that hasn't even happened yet completely throw you into a tailspin and screw everything up.

This junction is not going to be an easy one to get through, you need to be prepared for that.

But for fuck sake woman, stop letting your fears effect everything good in your life.

Stop pushing those closest to you away.

You always harp on about how that is your biggest fear... SO BREAK THE CYCLE! Stop doing it.

Are you really that blind to see what you're worth? That people actually care, and want to help, support and be there for you?

Why are you so damn scared?

You have so much to be excited and hopeful about, and literally the only person who can fuck that up for you, is YOU.

Famous last words

There are going to be a lot of good times to look forward to. However, we all know that, inevitably, with the good comes the bad.

But screw the bad. Don't fear the bad. If and when it happens, it'll happen.

Don't try preempt it. Don't try control it.

What matters is how you deal with it when it does happen.

I need you to realise your worth.

You are worthy of happiness. You are worthy of laughter, and love, and compassion, and support when you need it.

You mean so much to so many people - so why don't you believe them when they tell you?

Stop projecting your issues onto those who are just trying to be there for you.

They are there for a reason.

They're going to frustrate you no end, because they force you to see something in yourself that either you haven't seen yet, or are actively avoiding seeing.

They're going to make you realise a few home truths which are going to be painful to accept.

Stop deflecting every compliment, kind gesture and gratuity afforded to you.

How have you not realised that you teach people how to treat you?

Stop complaining about how you keep feeling let down by people, when in actuality, you're letting yourself down by not accepting the incredible gifts that are being offered to you.

Yes. Yes, you are hurting. You have struggles that a lot of people don't understand.
But what you are not, is broken.
No. You are not broken.

You do not need to overcompensate for anything for fear of not being "enough".
You are more than enough, and it's high time that you start believing that.

As much as I am loathe to use this as a reference, remember where your name came from:

God, grant me the Serenity
To Accept the things I cannot change,

The Courage to change the things I can

And the Wisdom to know the difference

Accept that you can't change the past, or the way people think and feel.
Have the courage to change the way you approach situations that make you uncomfortable.
Be wise enough to know that accepting what is and was; changing the way you respond to scenarios is ultimately where you will find your peace.

For Gods sake girl.
Just live. Be present.
You've got this.

Ovary and out,

S

xx

Ctrl+Alt+Del: The Three Finger Salute

It's 3am. Wednesday morning.

I'm angry. So incredibly fucking angry.
And frustrated. Fuck. So inexplicably frustrated.
And upset.
And hurt.
And listless.
And exasperated.
And melancholy
And bitter.

And tired.

I cannot even begin to tell you how tired I am.

But "tired" means so many things when you're 28, staring down the barrel of a majorly life changing surgery, trying to juggle work, study and personal and professional relationships with chronic pain, fatigue and crippling anxiety, depression and self doubt.

I genuinely wish that there was a way to force quit certain programmes which run in the background of our lives, slowing down our operating systems.

Ctrl + Alt + Del > Task Manager > Force Quit.
"Are you sure?"
Yes. A million times yes.

Endo is a cunt of a disease, and as much as I'd like to say it's a disease of the cunt (because wordplay, obviously) unfortunately it's not confined specifically to that area.

Endometriosis is a cruel, pervasive, unrelenting bitch which has been the bane of my existence for the past 8 years.
There is no cure.
And from where I'm sitting right now - on my couch, curled up with my heat pack and crying - there's not a hell of a lot of hope.

I've been fighting for a hysterectomy for the better part of two years.
In those two years I've undergone two other surgeries for excision of endometriosis, cysts and my left ovary.
In those two years I've been admitted to hospital for anywhere from two to eight days at a time, more times than I can count.

In the eight years since I was diagnosed, I've had 6 surgeries, 7 general anaesthetics and if we average my admissions to twice every three months, that's 64 admissions in eight years... and that's not considering the GP visits, trips to the ED and all the other shit that's involved with having a long standing illness.
I don't even want to consider what that all amounts to.

Aforementioned hysterectomy has finally been granted, but only after extensive psychological care.
They're still not convinced it's going to do me any good in terms of my pain, however, have agreed to go ahead with it because they are worried that (and this is verbatim) "if we don't, I'm concerned it will affect your mental health".

Oh. Right. Okay.

I don't know if it's just because of my already fucked up mental state, but it felt like a giant slap in the face.
As if to say "Well Serenity, we're only agreeing to it so that you'll drop it, not because we're convinced that something is wrong in there and that you deserve a chance at being pain free, but so that we can say 'ha-ha, we told you so' once the surgery is over and done with and you're still in pain".

The sting from that proverbial slap is still very much present, and the ringing it's left in my ear has done nothing but get louder and louder and louder as the days go on.

Monday 21st March, 2016.
8:45am.
I'll finally find out when I can be rid of this godforsaken Demon Uterus, Ursula (yeah, just like that evil sea wench from Little Mermaid) and her dumb-ass sidekick, Odette the Ovary and her clinger on, Francine the Fallopian Tube.

Besides, I have this cute wee lady now!

You'd think I'd be excited, and don't get me wrong, I am.
However, I'm a nervous wreck and it's wearing thin.
My pain is flaring as a result, and in a cruel twist of fate, this leads to further nerves and anxiety, which leads to more pain... Which leads to... You get the jist.

What if I get to the appointment and they've changed their mind?
What if I have the surgery and get no relief?
What if I don't recover from the surgery well and wind up worse than before?
What if the pressure is too much and I have to drop out of study? Out of work?
What if it's too much to handle and my relationships suffer?
What if? What if? What if? What if? What if? What if? What if? What if?

"Don't think of the what if's, the ands, the buts and the maybes... Be positive. Look for the silver lining"

Fuck off.
I have. And I do. But every now and then the cracks in the facade begin to show, and you have to forgive a girl for having a breakdown and losing her shit when she's about to sprout facial hair and start sweating like a whore in church, stripping off in the middle of the frozens aisle begging for relief from the hot flushes.

For now there isn't a hell of a lot to do but wait it out and try not to drive myself and those around me crazy.

So that's that.
This is me; in all my angsty, frustrated glory.

Here's to the countdown, the meltdown and all the shit in between.

Ovary and out

S