XsMom21
Well-known member
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]You know that saying "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade?" I hate that saying. Know why? Cause you can't make lemonade without the sugar. All you have is a bunch of lemons that eventually start to rot on your kitchen counter or in your fridge because life doesn't just hand out sugar on a regular basis.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Another saying that irks me is that whole "If you fall off a horse, get right back on, or you never will." WTF? Don't these people realize that falling off a fucking horse hurts sometimes and you have to take a brief pause to recover. I'm speaking in metaphors and analogies, of course, but sometimes you can't just get back on the horse. There's intense therapy to mend whatever part of you was broken when you were thrown.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Lately I've found myself a victim of my guilt and feelings of inadequacy. Since I became pregnant with my son, I have had one medical problem after another. I'm a physical shell of the person I was before. I used to be active, strong. Hell, if someone pissed me off, I wasn't afraid of a confrontation, because I knew I could beat their ass. But now, I'm weak, and fragile. I can't even play with my own son.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Last week, after about two or three months of my back being on the "ok" side, it went out. Big time. This was probably the worst that it had ever gone out. I couldn't move my own freaking legs. Have any idea how horrible that feels? And the worst part was that I couldn't figure out HOW I hurt it. The only things I had done that day were put some pots on the pot rack and picked up my dog. It didn't make sense. So now, my back is out. My son has to go to work with my husband and/or stay at my mom's because I can't even make it from the bed to the couch. Vicodin in hand, I deal with it.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Then, Wednesday, my back is finally letting up. I'm so happy, ya know, because back pain sucks royally. Well, I sprain my ankle. Don't know how I did it, it just starts hurting. That kind of "if I step down, I'm going to pee on myself" hurting. So I wrap it, and my son goes back with my husband to work yesterday. The real shitty part about this - the way that I'm walking to avoid hurting my ankle is now causing my back to hurt again. HAHA, funny right. Yea, you can hear me laughin, I know it.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]It's now about twenty to seven. I'm never up this early. I just couldn't sleep. My heart has been doing weird flippy flops the last two days, and between that and Roy's snoring, I'm all fucked up. Can't sleep on the couch cause of my back, can't make coffee cause of my ankle, so I sit here in the office and type this like the self-loathing person I am. Well, not self-loathing really. I just hate my freaking body and all the trouble it's caused me in the last three and a half years.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]I guess I should maybe mention the real reason I started this blog in the first place. I feel like I'm compensating for my disabilities out of guilt. I know that may sound strange to those who have never suffered an illness or injury for more than a year, but here's the gist of it. I feel bad that by the time Roy gets home from work, I'm tired and sore from chasin after Xander and the dog all day. I feel guilty that I leave dinner to him almost every night. I feel guilty that I can't play with my son the way his daddy does. I feel guilty that I can't take him out to play in the backyard. I feel guilty that I don't clean the house everyday.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]So, in the midst of this guilt, I overcompensate, financially. Just to give an example, for his b-day in April, Roy got a Wii and about 6 games. For mother's day, just a few weeks later, I got a rug shampooer to clean up HIS dog's SHIT off my carpet. See where I'm going with this? Roy got to go to Busch Gardens on Tuesday with a bunch of his buddies. Know what I got? I got to sit home with back pain. This is what he said: "I don't think your back would be able to handle all of the walking" when I told him I wanted to go with them next time. Roy's going to NY with his brother for four days. What am I doing? I'm staying home with Xander, who does not listen to me, only to his daddy, and would rather play with Daddy. I'm a glorified babysitter. I don't mean that really, but it feels that way with this stage he's in. He really prefers Roy for everything, I guess because I can't do much of anything.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]It just feels like I'm getting a lot of lemons, and because I feel guilty of the strain that puts on Roy, I'm giving him what little sugar I have left. Does that make sense? It's really starting to get to me though, because it's what everyone expects now. "Oh, you can't do this or that because of :: insert physical problem here :: so why don't you just stay home and clean the house and watch the baby or pay the bills or auction all of your stuff off on ebay cause we have no money, or go to bed, or clean up the dog shit on the floor..." It's getting really old really quick. I miss my old self. The one I was when I was at full physical capacity. I miss being beautiful and dancing all night. I miss having confidence and stregth. It's amazing what can be taken away from you so quickly.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Another saying that irks me is that whole "If you fall off a horse, get right back on, or you never will." WTF? Don't these people realize that falling off a fucking horse hurts sometimes and you have to take a brief pause to recover. I'm speaking in metaphors and analogies, of course, but sometimes you can't just get back on the horse. There's intense therapy to mend whatever part of you was broken when you were thrown.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Lately I've found myself a victim of my guilt and feelings of inadequacy. Since I became pregnant with my son, I have had one medical problem after another. I'm a physical shell of the person I was before. I used to be active, strong. Hell, if someone pissed me off, I wasn't afraid of a confrontation, because I knew I could beat their ass. But now, I'm weak, and fragile. I can't even play with my own son.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Last week, after about two or three months of my back being on the "ok" side, it went out. Big time. This was probably the worst that it had ever gone out. I couldn't move my own freaking legs. Have any idea how horrible that feels? And the worst part was that I couldn't figure out HOW I hurt it. The only things I had done that day were put some pots on the pot rack and picked up my dog. It didn't make sense. So now, my back is out. My son has to go to work with my husband and/or stay at my mom's because I can't even make it from the bed to the couch. Vicodin in hand, I deal with it.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]Then, Wednesday, my back is finally letting up. I'm so happy, ya know, because back pain sucks royally. Well, I sprain my ankle. Don't know how I did it, it just starts hurting. That kind of "if I step down, I'm going to pee on myself" hurting. So I wrap it, and my son goes back with my husband to work yesterday. The real shitty part about this - the way that I'm walking to avoid hurting my ankle is now causing my back to hurt again. HAHA, funny right. Yea, you can hear me laughin, I know it.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]It's now about twenty to seven. I'm never up this early. I just couldn't sleep. My heart has been doing weird flippy flops the last two days, and between that and Roy's snoring, I'm all fucked up. Can't sleep on the couch cause of my back, can't make coffee cause of my ankle, so I sit here in the office and type this like the self-loathing person I am. Well, not self-loathing really. I just hate my freaking body and all the trouble it's caused me in the last three and a half years.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]I guess I should maybe mention the real reason I started this blog in the first place. I feel like I'm compensating for my disabilities out of guilt. I know that may sound strange to those who have never suffered an illness or injury for more than a year, but here's the gist of it. I feel bad that by the time Roy gets home from work, I'm tired and sore from chasin after Xander and the dog all day. I feel guilty that I leave dinner to him almost every night. I feel guilty that I can't play with my son the way his daddy does. I feel guilty that I can't take him out to play in the backyard. I feel guilty that I don't clean the house everyday.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]So, in the midst of this guilt, I overcompensate, financially. Just to give an example, for his b-day in April, Roy got a Wii and about 6 games. For mother's day, just a few weeks later, I got a rug shampooer to clean up HIS dog's SHIT off my carpet. See where I'm going with this? Roy got to go to Busch Gardens on Tuesday with a bunch of his buddies. Know what I got? I got to sit home with back pain. This is what he said: "I don't think your back would be able to handle all of the walking" when I told him I wanted to go with them next time. Roy's going to NY with his brother for four days. What am I doing? I'm staying home with Xander, who does not listen to me, only to his daddy, and would rather play with Daddy. I'm a glorified babysitter. I don't mean that really, but it feels that way with this stage he's in. He really prefers Roy for everything, I guess because I can't do much of anything.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif]It just feels like I'm getting a lot of lemons, and because I feel guilty of the strain that puts on Roy, I'm giving him what little sugar I have left. Does that make sense? It's really starting to get to me though, because it's what everyone expects now. "Oh, you can't do this or that because of :: insert physical problem here :: so why don't you just stay home and clean the house and watch the baby or pay the bills or auction all of your stuff off on ebay cause we have no money, or go to bed, or clean up the dog shit on the floor..." It's getting really old really quick. I miss my old self. The one I was when I was at full physical capacity. I miss being beautiful and dancing all night. I miss having confidence and stregth. It's amazing what can be taken away from you so quickly.[/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT][/FONT]