I Fucking Hate Him!!!!

Did I fool you into thinking this was going to be an interesting blog post? It's not. Who do I hate? My massage therapist. I can not remember the last time I cried from physical pain but last thursday, and again today, I cried during my massage.

I thought it would a nice relaxing massage, like when I go to the spa...it's not. It's painful and makes me want to kill myself. Don't even get me started on my massage therapist either. I was a little relieved to see that he wasn't even remotely attractive as I think having a sexy masseuse would just make me self conscious. But then I've got this dorky, unattractive guy that is probably 15 yrs older then me digging his hairy knuckles into my back and trying to make small talk and it drives me fucking mental.

So if you guys see the headlines "Massage Patient Murders Unsuspecting Masseuse" and I disappear from the blog world...you know that this is me.

"You're still young"

What the fuck does that mean? I'm still young so it doesn't matter that I work at a job I hate? I'm still young so I'm allowed to be single (and consequently miserable)? I mean, it just seems like this is everyone's answer to things that seem to be problems in my life. "Oh, well you're still young. You have your whole life to figure it out." Okay, I'm not denying that I have my whole life to figure my shit out but perhaps, just perhaps, I don't want to take my whole life to figure my shit out.

I just hate that the fact that I'm only 22 means I'm allowed to be miserable, confused, frustrated, and all alone. Hey, guess what? I don't want to be any of those things, and I don't think that the fact that I'm still young should be an excuse to make it okay that I feel these things. I realize that everyone goes through these times of misery and confusion but I'm not that girl. I don't want to be the girl that on the outside has everything together but on the inside is a fucking wreck. I'd rather be the girl that is quite obviously the fucking wreck than a girl that fakes it for everyone else's sake.

So I go to work every day, I go to school, study for tests, volunteer, socialize to some extent but it all feels like it's some sort of facade. Like all I want to do is scream at every one that I'm not fucking okay and I don't want to be part of this fucking bullshit anymore. I'm getting totally cynical too. It's like I automatically assume that everyone else is exactly the same way I am and they're all just faking it and it pisses me off. I'm becoming more drawn to the people that are open about the fact that they don't have their shit together because I feel more comfortable with them.

Something Always Comes Up

So I was all stoked to continue working out today and then at work I bent down and stood back up and it was like BAM! All of a sudden my entire back felt like it was on fire. I could hardly move the rest of the day. I ended up leaving work early and hitting up the walk in clinic. Doc says it's a pinched nerve and prescribed weekly massage therapy. WHAT? You mean I get to have a massage every week and it's covered?! Fuck, I'm pinching nerves left and right if it means I get to have tons of massages.

Unfortunately this means I have to 'rest' until I feel better. Which means working out is out of the question. No, I'm not lying, I asked the doctor if I could work out and he laughed in my face and said "not until that burning feeling goes away."

Finally!!!

So remember back at the beginning of the year I made a new year's resolution post? Well here's an update. I've been pretty good with sticking to my budget but everything else has been basically ignored. I have been to the gym twice since the new year. I haven't been doing my training program for the 10km at all. Today I finally started it! Oh it was so nice to actually run. I couldn't run for long periods of time but that's what the training program is for. Now I just gotta keep it up.

I'm teetering on the 120lb line. The day the scale hits 119lb is going to be the most happy day of my life! I do have to say though, my gut is not getting any smaller...I mean how much more weight do I have to lose to not have this belly anymore? I can't possibly lose that much more weight, I mean anything below 110lbs seems way too low even at my height. I just think there is way more than 9lbs of fat in my gut.

Anyways, I fully intend on doing my pilates video tomorrow and then back on the treadmill on Wednesday. This is me, holding myself accountable.

I'll Squash My Own Spiders, Thank You Very Much

The mood today has been desperately lonely. It was another tough night of sleeping in my gigantic bed all by my lonesome (seriously considering buying a twin mattress). At about 2 am I dragged my pillow and duvet onto my couch as I have done almost every night for last year and a half. Even on the couch last night I tossed and turned...okay and cried a little. I woke up this morning with that lonely mood and then I got so fucking mad. Almost shaking mad. I can't remember the last time I've been this mad (this is a lie, I do remember. It was the day facebook informed me that The Ex was officially relationshipping with the slutbag he cheated on me with.)

I was just so furious. I mean, why the fuck do I need a man? I have 3 high powered vibrators that get the job done lickitysplit! I spent a half an hour putting together my very own patio table. I carry my own garbage down and maneuver the bag over my head and into the bin. This morning I went outside to have a smoke and was disgusted to find my entire patio infested with spiders. GAH!!! I fucking hate spiders. Have they made spider catchers? And if they have, why are they not advertised. I am definitely going to go to some sort of outdoorsy store to check this shit out. If spider catchers haven't been invented, then someone better get on that shit because that's a million dollar invention right there. Anywhoooo since I was unaware of the possibility of spider catchers this morning, I was left to fend for myself. AND I FUCKING DID. I fended for myself. It was me against the spiders. I got on my old chucks and squashed those motherfuckers; they didn't even see it coming.

My whole point here is that I don't need to be taken care of. I can do all this shit on my own. Why do I feel so helpless all the time then? Fuck, it's all about the intimacy and affection isn't it? I know that's what I miss. So now my goal is to find all the awful points of intimacy and affection so I don't miss it anymore. I just can't think of anything awful yet. But I will find something.

And now for something completely different, I got the outline of my half sleeve (which has now turned into a 3/4 sleeve) done. Woohoo! It was awesome, and looks awesome. Having my elbow tattooed hurt like a motherfucker but it's all worth it. At the moment however, I am hating this tattoo. Why you ask? Because my arm is so itchy I actually looked at my serrated bread knife and considered sawing off my arm. I only have a few more days until the itch goes away...of course shortly after the itch goes away, I'll be getting the shading done.

Perception and Reality

Sometimes I wonder if people have the same insecurities that I do. Sometimes I wonder if my own insecurities are reality or just my distorted perception of myself.

I think we can all relate to the "fat days" or the "ugly days," but what if those days are more often then the "hot days." That's how it is for me. I question all the time whether my own perception of myself is actually how I am. I'm not going to sit here and say that I'm ugly...but I picture all of my friends and to me they're all gorgeous no matter what weight they're at or what kind of clothes they wear. They're all beautiful in my eyes. I don't feel like I measure up to them at all. And it's not just my friends, there are very few ladies I run across that I don't see the beauty in.

For a long time, I just thought it was my own perception of myself and my own insecurities. But the longer I go without a boyfriend, or even really being hit on I gotta wonder, maybe I am a total dog. Don't give me the bullshit that beauty is on the inside, yah beauty is on the inside but that's not any good if no one is attracted to you. It's easy for me to look past a guy at first because I'm not physically attracted to him. I think I have a bit more maturity than a lot of people my age, where my attraction to someone can change the more I get to know them but there are still guys that I'd never go for. Maybe I'm that girl that most guys would never go for.

So I gotta wonder, what the fuck is physically wrong with me? Am I unattractive?

Friends Again, Friends Again

Back in the day, there were 3 reasons why I was good friends with DB... 1.we both moved to the same town because of our then significant others. We both broke up with these significant others around the same time and were left in this town without many friends. 2. I had no heat in my apartment during this time so I used him for his heat-filled apartment. 3. We're both completely content with doing nothing but watching crappy tv/movies all night.

Then all that shit happened and we didn't talk for like 7 months. When we did talk again he was with Girl Version. The friendship did start to rekindle slightly and that was nice. I think this weekend was a turning point. Thursday night, I went out to his place with BFF1 and we just hung out there with a few people. Last night we were talking on FB chat he mentioned that he was bored, I said I was bored as well. He suggested I come visit him. I declined as he lives about 45 minutes away and it was already 11:30 so by the time I got there, I'd have to leave pretty quick if I wanted to avoid not falling asleep on the drive home later. He ended up convincing me to come out. We smoked some grass and watched a few episodes of Oz, then I fell asleep on his couch. When it was time for him to go to bed, he told me to take his bed and he'd crash on the couch. I opted for his couch though (I hate kicking people out of their bed). The evening went really well...there were even a few inappropriate comments made between the two of us. I'm pretty jazzed that this friendship is getting back to normal. I kinda missed him a little.

Real Men Don't Give A Fuck!

I was looking at a picture of myself the other day...probably almost two years old. As I looked at it, I saw no difference in my body back then than it is now. Back then I was probably in the 150-160lb range (which is a lot for my 5' frame) and now I am sitting at a relatively healthy 123lbs. But in my eyes, I look exactly the same but since then, I feel differently about myself. This made me start thinking about my relationship with the ex and how when we fooled around, my shirt was always left on. I never made an effort to take it off, he certainly made no effort to take it off for me. He never put his hands anywhere near my stomach. Always skipping from my breasts to my crotch; always avoiding the dreaded tum-tum. I thought I deserved this; I didn't like looking at me completely naked, why would he? After we broke up, I did feel a little better about myself but I still saw fat when I looked in the mirror. I guess it just didn't really matter at that point though.

The night with DB was a lot of firsts for me. He crashed at my house, sharing my bed with me because it was no big deal. I really did not think anything would happen, I was decked out in valor pj pants and an old ratty shirt. I also clutched my teddy bear, Pola, as I normally would. Clearly, if I thought there would be some sexy time, I would have made an effort to wear cute pj's and leave Pola on the floor for the night. So, you can imagine that I was more than a little shocked when a half an hour later, I woke up to the front of his body pressed against my back, hands making there way to my ta-tas. I quickly rolled over to face him. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Ya, are you?" Before I could answer he leaned forward pressing his lips to mine with a strong kiss, filled with the urgency and pressure that I was feeling as well. Quickly stripped of his clothes, he went for mine. Pants, off. He started to pull my shirt over my head and I grabbed hold of the bottom, tugging it back down. He gave me this look, sighed and said "Fuck off...seriously, c'mon now." Shirt, off. It was amazing to me how comfortable I felt with his hands exploring the top part of my body. He didn't skip from the girls right to my unders, his hands moved across my tummy without a grimace or a flinch. Maybe it was all in my mind but my fat (and his major lack of fat that would usually be extremely unattractive to me) didn't bother either of us. But it's not so difficult to feel comfortable when you're already so comfortable with a person and there's no feelings involved. I really did not care what he thought of me.

The same sort of feelings were involved with the others. It just didn't matter to me if they thought I could stand to lose a few pounds...it didn't ever seem to matter to them either. Never was my stomach the focus of the night, but it was never shunned from like with the ex. But then there was G. I can honestly say, I don't remember much of the first night and the next day was more filled with sheer embarrassment of how I may have behaved, drunk as I was, than with concern of what he thought about my body. In the days that followed, I came to a huge realization. When we'd sit or lay together, his hands always rested or caressed my flabby little belly...almost as if he liked it. *GASP* When it was time for the sexy shenanigans to ensue, he took his sweet time caressing the little pooch. WTF?! Never in my life, had I ever thought that not only could a man not care, but actually find it sexy...but he did. I did my very best to put all insecurities aside and allow him to revel in all my belly-glory. And so I've now come to this conclusion, real men just don't give a fuck if you've got some belly fat. They just don't care...and some even like it. From now on, shirt always off!

Drained like a mother fucker!

I had my counseling today. I really think it went well. I think she's a good match for me. I'm feeling really fucking drained though. I can't remember the last time I cried so hard. My sessions have been postponed because my counselor wants me to deal with my anxiety problems (with a mental health counselor and possibly medication) first because she wants to really delve into everything and is concerned that it could make my anxiety issues worse for a short period of time.

So let's cross our fingers and hope this works out; I would give my right fucking arm to feel normal again.

I've also made a gym date with a friend for tomorrow. I know that I'll feel better once I start going back to the gym, it is just so hard for me to actually go. But now I've made it so I have to go. Wish me luck!

P.S. I need to get laid!!!!!!!! Fuck! I gotta find a FWB soon or my hand is gonna fucking fall off.

Super Sigh

I wish I could say I feel better since my overly depressing post a few weeks back...but I don't. I'm getting some help though. I have set up counseling with a Women's Resource Center. I've also been referred to Mental Health to get help with my anxiety/depression. I'm mostly against taking medication but I'm trying really hard to be open to that possibility right now.

I'm trying to stay positive though. It's hard, and there's a part of me that doesn't want to even try to be positive but I think, for the sake of the people I love, I need to at least try to pretend that I'm alright.

I imagine that I won't be blogging much because I actually feel guilty that the last months of my blog have been relatively depressing (it was not the original intent of my blog to be like a journal of my own self pity) and I just can't see anyone wanting to read this anymore. I'll most definitely keep up with blogging anything that I feel is blog worthy but for the most part, I think the posts will be pretty far apart. Bare with me, guys. I promise that one day (soon hopefully) my blog will be more positive and entertaining.

I'll also post tattoo pictures soon! My first sitting is on the 14th (Weeeeee!)