period misery
For once I'm covered in cuts and scratches that are accidents, that are not by my own doing. They're from the kitty, honestly. My last cuts are fading though. I notice them, but maybe that's because I know that they're there. They're all faded enough that I was brave enough to go swimming without finding some lame shorts to wear over the top.
There's a mix of moods that I get into where I just feel really, odd. It comes from doing things like watching consecutive episodes of Grey's Anatomy just like it's a movie that goes for four hours, or rereading and retagging (and categorising parts of my life) older LJ entries, listening to all the songs I have from a band instead of just putting my music of shuffle. This evening has been Jimmy Eat World and now it's New Found Glory. It comes from being motivated and then being completely the opposite of motivated, and then feeling like shit and being hell tired and really wanting to do something but not being able to. It comes from realising that life is so much bigger than you are, and that everyone has a completely different perspective. I talk to someone on Facebook who's constantly being abused and wants to die just to make it stop. And then someone else on Facebook posts her status as "doesn't understand why so many people have sad statuses, things couldn't be that bad". I felt like dropping a comment and going "actually, yes it can be, tell me what you know and then I'll tell you what I know and we'll compare notes" but I didn't. It comes from spending days being with another person, instead of just existing in another person's space. It comes from many places, for no good reason, and now I'm left sitting here in a really thoughtful mood trying to think about just one thing or nothing at all or everything at once. And I'm so damn tired.
Michael dropped in today. It was weird, because we hardly ever see him. He brought around an invitation to his 21st, which isn't until March. I freaked out at first, seeing a silver envelope with nice printed names on it going "holy shit this looks like it's an official invitation, I hope it's not to an engagement party!" but it was ok. I actually had no idea if Michael was going to throw a big party, or even invite any of us, but it looks like he is. That's the first of the 21st birthdays. Well technically not, because Charlotte turned 21 last year, but that's different. She's a year older than us, and spent a year overseas so ended up in our year at school when she came back and that's how we met. So it's the first of the 21st birthdays for us who were born in 1988. Then it's Mark is May, and then it's Ally in December. Oh wait, Ellie turns 21 this coming week, but that's not really counted because I'm just counting us guys from school. And Courtney turns 18 this week, which is awesome because she'll eventually be able to come out.
I don't really know what else I have to write about. I just don't feel like saving just yet, and there's nothing else for me to do. I've had a really lazy day, but I've felt like shit for most of it. We did a quick grocery shop today, even though it's Tuesday. I had $90 left, and that covered it, and it means that we'll spend less tomorrow, which will be good. We got most of what we need for this week today, except for a few dinners. We really need to start controlling our shops because they've been getting further on the other side of $100 for the last few weeks. Which reminds me, another day has passed where I've been too preoccupied to ask Jason if I can borrow his credit card so I can buy the rest of my uni text books.
I'm bloated. Or at least I think this is what bloated feels like. Either way, I feel like utter shit and I have no body confidence at all at the moment. Ally is probably going to tell me that I'm being stupid, and that I "can't buy shorts like that and complain about fat legs" but I don't care. And for the record, I complained before I bought them, but Mark told me they looked good, and I hadn't found any other shorts that I'd liked or that had fit me. I know it's this stupid period but I can't help thinking that, no, you know what, I'm not even going to say it. Because that makes it real, that means that I've grabbed that thought and taken it on board and I don't want to do that. I know that this is just my mind throwing random shit at me just because it can. It's not like that. If I tell myself that enough maybe I'll believe it. And if I say it someone will stop me before I can get in over my head with it. Is that what I want though? It's what I think I want right now. Ooh dear. Ok, now that I'm there it might be too late to go back. But I'm figuring that I'll be fine in a few days, after I stop bleeding out of my vagina and my uterus stops twisting itself around into the most uncomfortable positions.
I'm thinking of switching birth control. This period pain is just too much. And I think this is what happened last time, back when I was on the other pill. I started to just randomly bleed for no reason, like it wasn't having the same effect anymore. I know that depression can be a side effect of the pill, and I know that mine isn't necessarily, although it may have been helped along a little, but maybe things would be better without it. I don't really want to go off the pill, because I like the easiness of it. I like being able to control when I get my period. And I hate condoms. One of the girls we were out with on the weekend was talking about her implant thing in her arm, and I thought that might be good for me to get. She said it lasted for three years, which is great for me because I don't want kids right now, or any time in the next three years. But someone else said that someone they knew had their kids while on that. But not all birth control is perfect, I know that. I want to make an appointment to discuss alternatives, but I don't really have any other reason for asking except that I want to. And I hate this damn pain, which is probably my own fault anyway. And I'm wondering if being on the pill could have anything to do with how tired I am all the time.
I have to ring up and find the results of that blood test as well. I'll ring tomorrow.
I'm really quite sick of going to the doctors so much though. And the sad part is that there isn't really anything wrong with me at all. I've admitted to depression, and that's it. Apart from that I've had a yeast infection and that is all. It's like, twenty five appointments in the last six months because I'm depressed and tired and got absolutely nothing wrong but I want there to be something wrong. Because that means there's a reason for all of this, and I can't live without a reason. Things happen, and sometimes we know how, and sometimes we don't, but there is always a why and I need to know what that why is. Things just don't happen for no reason.