I hope your Christmas was wonderful. Mine was well spent with family.
Yet, my elevated mood has plummeted in the past twelve hours, as today marks the day of my birth. I am, every year, THOROUGHLY disappointed. I cry almost every year on my birthday because things never go the way that I had envisioned or attempted to plan.
Law NEVER sees me on my birthday. And I make the trek down to south nowheres-ville jersey to celebrate with her every year for her birthday. I'm fed up with it. I'm fed up with rearranging my plans and taking off or whatever for her birthday...
But back to my plans, Beau is ill. I have transferred my illness to him but it's hitting him much worse, J' sister and nephew are in town, Jay is in a severe state of desperation, Bee has a bachelorette party for a pregnant bachelorette, and I'm sure that C will be somewhere on the island. My parents are going to have dinner and cake at the house with my cousins which is nice... but will Beau come? I mean he was invited and all and everything but he can barely talk and he has a fever and hours ago I was just sitting on his bed tonight trying to force feed him cough drops, trying to make him feel better. I just kept staring into his eyes trying to silently beg him to come the next day. Please please please, come tomorrow, even if you're sweaty and can't talk or swallow without wincing. Just come.
I wonder if he felt the desperation in my 23 year old eyes. I do not handle change very well, and when I set up a plan I expect it to be executed. It is so disappointing when it is forfeited, when everything I was hoping on comes crashing down as I realize that I have no control over the individual or the environment or the way the universe operates. I can only go to bed now and not shed a tear and not imagine tomorrow as a very sad, depressing day.
Speaking of illness, I've been battling some kind of ear/sinus/throat thing all week (with the aid of vicodin and antibiotics). To make matters worse, Tuesday night resulted in some kind of episode. I thought I was dying. I woke up in the middle of the night with cramps, but cramps like I have never experienced. I literally laid there sobbing loudly into the dark night for 15 minutes until I fell back asleep.
I went to the emergency room the next day. Yea, I ruptured an ovarian cyst. And apparently that ovarian cyst was hanging out on my ovaries with other ovarian cysts. And pretty much there's nothing that they can do about them, the doctors. So I'm stuck here waiting for the next one to explode, and I'll feel like death, and look pregnant for the following four days after that and periodically want to vomit until downing some pain medicines like oxycodone.
And when I say pregnant, I mean like, it's painful to wear jeans. Painful. Do you understand what my psyche is enduring this week? It's being fucked royally. It's being tortured and beaten. If I had any body image disturbances before, this week has really intensified any disparages I had about my body. 2009 might be a year of no eating.
Christmas, yay!!!
