I feel ugly. Even when I was in school and everyone would make fun of how I looked I never felt ugly.
I’ve gained more weight, which doesn’t usually bother me, but right now I just feel so large and uncomfortable. I’m nearing 40, and even though I don’t have wrinkles (because I’m so fat), I can see my skin sagging on my face and it looks gross. I shaved my head a few months ago, and while I’m glad I did it and I loved it, my hair growing in is still so short and it makes me feel ugly.
So I guess it’s getting better. We’ve been here almost a month now and are starting to feel settled. We fixed the problem we had with the cat getting into the basement and crawl space. The noise went away. The weather has been fantastic and rainy all month. This house has its issues but I suppose it’s just something you get used to. This week we have roofers coming to redo the roof, and hopefully after that, we’ll be able to fully relax and settle.
So we’ve moved. It didn’t go great. The cat did much better than expected. I did much worse. I feel like I’m in mourning for the old house.
I loved it. I was so happy there. Finally, happy. I didn’t want to move, I just wasn’t ready when it was time. I’m still not ready.
The new house is nice. It has more things about it that I like better, but it’s new and a big change all around. And above all I wasn’t ready.
All I can think is since we had to move in a certain amount of time we couldn’t be very picky. We had to take one of the first ones that hit most of the boxes, and now we’re locked in for a year.
One year. I’m giving it that year to see how much I like it here. I don’t want to move again but I’m giving it a year.
And now our bubble has burst. So far we’ve had a fantastic year. That was until we were told yesterday that we have to move again.
I was actually happy. For the first time in years, decades even. I was content and happy and had found joy. All that has crashed down and gone away.
We have just under four months to find a new place, so hopefully ample time to find somewhere with what we need, but time crunches are always fretful. To put it lightly, we’re a bit devastated and I’m still processing.
Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in my comfort zone. It’s nice and cozy and non threatening. I basically stay home, mostly by myself, and clean, cook, and binge Netflix.
Then I get the feeling that I should step out of my comfy bubble and do something scary. I reach out and try to make a plan with someone and they shut it down. They don’t realize how hard it is, and it sets me back, and I never want to leave my bubble again.
This time, I’m not reaching out. I know what the response will be. I don’t want to be rejected again. So I’ll stay in my bubble and everyone else can go fuck themselves.
There’s a thing planned in March. There’s going to be a lot of people there and I don’t want to go. The thing is we have no reason why we can’t and it would be really shitty of us not to, except I know already what it will do to me.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel right now, but there’s so many things in the way, that I haven’t been sleeping and everything seems worse because of it. It seems to be that way, things always get worse just before they get better.
Right now, things are not great.
As I’ve gotten older, as possibly crazier, I’ve realized why I’m not meant to have children. I don’t think I could handle having them. I think the stress and anxiety would be too much for me to deal with and I’d probably break. I’m glad I can finally, and logically understand why I shouldn’t have children, and I’m kind of ok with it, because it is what it is, but I’m still not really ok with it.
Dentist, dun dun DUUNNN! One of the scariest words/things in the world. Sadly, I had to go to them last week. When I was a kid, I had a lot of dental work. I had braces, two types of retainers, and some weird bracket thing that my mom had to crank with a key to widen my mouth, not all in that order, and over the course of 6 or so years. The dentist we went to was actually pretty nice, but the orthodontist was a total asshole and he’s scarred me for life.
I stopped going when I was 16 because I didn’t need to anymore. 14 years later, my wisdom teeth had become abcessed and infected, and I was in excruciating pain. After popping ibuprofen and Tylenol for 6 months every 4 hours I finally made an appointment to have them removed. I found a dentist who, put me under general anesthesia and it was all over before I knew I had been put to sleep.
After a few years, I had to go back to have some cavities filled. By then I had gone for help with anxiety and had some ativan. That did nothing! When they gave me the numbing needles I had a panic attack and full-out bawled in the dentist chair. They were super nice about it, and when I had calmed they proceeded with their work.
Last week when I had my appointment to have another filling done, I was prepared for the panic. The days leading up to it were terrible. And the day of I took a Klonopin before I even left the house, knowing I’d need it. My pill kicked in and I was good to go. Once we got there however, it was like I didn’t take one at all. Panic kicked in and by the time I got in the chair and explained what was wrong, I was already crying.
After some x-rays and pictures the dentist showed up and told me I didn’t, in fact, need anything done! I was so relieved! Also, a bit annoyed that I went through all of that just to find out it was nothing. I’m hoping it will be another 16+ years before I step foot in there again.