It is begun

Well the bleeding just started.

I am going to refrain from saying “thank you george for allowing me to make it through the work week before attacking me” and instead say:

I thank myself for treating my body right this week in preparing for menses to begin on time.

This is a first for me in terms of the way I view my body and its functions.

I’ve always viewed my menses as something external and terrible happening to me, not something that is a natural part of me because I was born female. Before menses, it was my pubic hair and my breasts that freaked me out and were bad things happening TO me. I have viewed the very things that make me female with such abhorrence since I hit puberty at age ten.

I remember liking pink and red as a child. I had several red and pink friendship pins. I remember picking out my favourite white dress with red hearts to wear for my fifth birthday party, and my favourite peach coloured dress to wear for sixth grade school photos. My favourite pen in middle school was a thin pink Jordache pen. And yet I was also a total tomboy from age five or six. I had more female friends than male friends but I’ve always identified more with males. I loved climbing trees and climbing on top of the garage at the first house I ever lived in. I loved throwing a racquetball my dad gave me onto the roof of that house and running to catch it in the baseball mitt the teenaged boy next door neighbor gave to me. I loved playing stick hockey with my brother and his friends in the creeks that froze over in the woods in the wintertime.
I loved playing with matchbox cars in the dirt and mud. I loved playing in the muddy rainwater that flooded our street each summer.

But when puberty hit at age ten, all I remember thinking was that the boys I was friends with at school would hate me now. I knew how they talked shit about the other girls. I considered myself one of the boys, and now I’d be betraying them. I sobbed and begged my mother to make the puberty stop happening. She had no idea how to react. I sat on the stairs to her bedroom and just sobbed.
Within days it was confirmed. My best friend Jack disowned me and began making fun of me, just like he and the other boys did to any girl who grew boobs or filled out in any way. At age ten, the opposite sex has cooties. That’s just how it goes.

That was pretty emotionally scarring for me, and so I’ve never forgiven my body for what it did to me.

So this now is a huge step for me – that I would correct my thinking mid-stream tonight when I saw the blood. With this change in verbiage, I have finally acknowledged that there is no asshole attacking me as an innocent. This is not some outside force happening to me. I’ve realised that my body is sick and has been for a very long time, and if there’s any asshole abounding, it’s my own Self – ME – if I don’t do everything in my power to avoid getting sicker.

SO, I thank my own Self for not drinking alcohol this week, for not eating cheetos or anything with MSG, corn syrup, caffeine and partially hydrogenated crap.

Although I did splurge on sugar a bit this week (On Sunday or Monday I baked a gluten free, yeast free cake and frosted it with non-hydrogenated, corn syrup free frosting), and although I also splurged on breads this week (gluten free, yeast free pizza crust, mmmm SO good), I am happy to report that I did not cause harm to my body intentionally like I normally do when PMSing.

It took a lot of courage this week to stand tall in the face of my PMS demands. I wanted chocolate. I wanted caffeine. More than caffeine itself, I wanted coffee. I wanted ice cream and milk shakes. I wanted Cheetos and that horrifying Fritos brand Jalapeño cheese dip (which I call nuclear cheese dip because of the neon colour of the cheese). These are all on my personal No Fly List, because over time, I have observed that the above have directly caused the pain to get worse right after ingestion while menstruating.
I also wanted red meat. I wanted hotdogs. I wanted ham and cheese sandwiches.

I held my courage and said no to this every time I was in the grocery store or near a place where the above could be obtained. I was good. I was strict. I am proud of myself.

I did all this so that my menstrual flow would begin on time, because I do not want to allow for the possibility of menses arriving early anytime before my wedding. I only have one good week leeway. If I am early next month, my wedding day the following month could be doomed. I can’t let that happen. I refuse to be bedridden for my own wedding. I refuse to be in pain on my wedding day. I refuse to be on painkillers on my wedding day.

I must take care of myself. I am taking care of myself.

I’ve been plugging away all night trying to bend WordPress to my will for pages on educating the masses about Endometriosis, and now I’m officially giving up. I’m cranky, I don’t care, people can friggin search for info themselves, and I don’t care to keep educating myself. I’m miserable, I’m bleeding like a stuck pig, I don’t want to go on with this life …

and… radio nigel just started playing Enigma’s Return to Innocence.

Love – Devotion – Feeling – Emotion
Don’t be afraid to be weak
Don’t be too proud to be strong
Just look into your heart my friend
That will be the return to yourself
The return to innocence.
A return to innocence.
If you want, then start to laugh
If you must, then start to cry
Be yourself don’t hide
Just believe in destiny.
Don’t care what people say
Just follow your own way
Don’t give up and use the chance
To return to innocence.
That’s not the beginning of the end
That’s the return to yourself
The return to innocence.
That’s the return to innocence.

Ok, ok.

And now, some invigoration:

I need more Native American warrior music in the house.


Last night on the way home from work, I decided I want to redo my website and journal. I want to create custom rss feeds for my homepage. Failing that last night, I turned to a new journal design, which I’ve also been thinking about lately.

I succeeded with the journal design, at least.

The changes you see before you reflect change in the person as well. I got tired of all the depressing blue and black. I felt I was keeping myself in a cold depressive funk by the very colours and imagery I’d chosen to reflect my personality through this journal.

The new design I’ve picked and tweaked feels warm. I hope my overall tone begins to change as well. I’m tired of being the depressed pessimist with never-ending health problems. I want all that to change in 2007.

October 31st was my New Year’s Eve, and I’d started thinking about what changes I want for myself in the coming year. It took me about two months to even get used to the harsh changes that I plan for myself, and now, tomorrow, on the New Year’s Eve that is more widely acknowledged, I can officially throw the stone out to sea with the things I don’t want anymore.

I’ve realised in the last two months that I’d become an alcoholic again. I’d become chronically depressed again. I acknowledged consciously once more that all I ever talk about are my health problems. I realised that my grudge against my mother’s side of the family was at fever pitch again for no good reason. And then, to drive it all home, between December 17th and December 29th, I sprained my ankle while piss-drunk, threw out my back days later, got a horrible sinus infection, and got my usual debilitating period while still trying to recover from all the other injuries.

My first reaction of course was self pity and depression, along with the fatalist overtones I learned so well from my mother and her family. But I kept thinking of that song, which I’ve had playing on and off in my head for a year now, and of my determination to finally GET IT on a conscious level.

I think I’m finally getting it.

Saturn is retrograde from December 5, 2006 until April 19, 2007.

According to Judy Collins of the Arizona Society of Astrologers, “A retrograde Saturn makes the individual seek a different kind of responsibility and purpose in life. The person may be challenged by either the father or other authority figures to take more responsibility for their actions. Through the past life experiences, they answer their critics with a slow persistence of reaching their goals in life. Where the planet is by house and where it rules shows the area where they will have to strive hard for success. A retrograde Saturn builds the character to accept small gains in the long process of success. Security issues need to be addressed in their present life and only when the ego does not interfere, does the individual feel a sense of peace. Saturn’s sign in the chart is where the person needs to address the demands and responsibilities of life.“.

Well hm. I don’t know how to do chart progressions. I’ve sat here for hours digging through my astrology books, before finally ordering a chart progression online from a site I’ve visited for years.

I do know where Saturn was at the time of my birth, though. Saturn was in the 2nd house of my natal chart. Not a good placement. Spells a life of financial trouble. I was set from day one to grow up in poverty and have financial woes. However, I firmly believe that I chose this path for myself, pre-incarnation.
It’s been a life-long struggle to overcome being so pissed off by my own karmic choice.

With that, I also know I won’t stop talking about my health issues as I continue to find a way to overcome them, but perhaps I can approach it without such a defeatist attitude.

In general, I want to start approaching what’s left of my life in a healthier manner for myself.
And by “what’s left of my life”, I mean exactly that. I have no idea when my life could end. I could live long or I could die before finishing this journal entry.

It feels good to think of letting go. I want to be able to believe that I can achieve letting go in 2007.

Susan Miller of Astrology Zone writes for this month’s Virgo forecast, “The past year has been a tough one for you, due to the eclipses, but you seem to have adjusted well. Pat yourself on the back for having shown so much strength and fortitude in the face of so many challenges, dear Virgo. I raise my glass of champagne to you.”

Thank you.

January 18, 2009 edit: Well the web design is back in black again…because Endometriosis is such a dark place emotionally. And because well, I liked the old style diary page look.

lazy sod

For the past two days, I’ve done nothing but browse web and email people and upload stuff to my genealogy site.

I’ve gotten a lot done but it’s mostly in the online realm. And my ass hurts.

I was supposed to get george yesterday. The mild cramping has been there for a few days now, but no george.

Until this morning.

He showed up and then went away.

Now I’m wondering what sort of hell I’m in for.

And I feel guilty for being so lazy and sitting about the house as though I’m on sick time. I should be working.

Then I remembered that the office is closed on Mondays, and that the boss closed up today too, to interview people.

Then I remembered that I’d declared last Saturday as my last day, anyway, so there’s no point in feeling guilty over a few days of vacation before starting the new job, especially when some of those days will be spent bedridden anyway.

So what if george didn’t show up on time? It only means he’ll be here later in the week. I’d be off of work sick, anyway. Best that my last day was last Saturday indeed.

I need to continue enjoying the personal work I’m getting done.

Stupid Americans feeling guilty for having any personal time.


Time for a nice bath, don’t you think?