All I want...is to be normal.

its been a week and a half since my surgery and quite frankly...nothing has gotten better [i still wake up crying, stiff and hurting to the point where suicide sounds delicious and my stitches are coming out too soon, leaving my germophobe dumbass self freaking the hell out], not being super negative or anything but its the facts.

im already scheduled to start the new treatment on friday morning at 10:45 and im trying to enjoy my last 2 days as a normal teenager. my treatment is Lupron Depot. Lupron Depot will put my fragile, decrepit, dying little body into medical menopause at age 17. to put it lightly- im scared.

i cannot remember the last time i smiled.
of course ive smiled, faked it so my mom and dad wouldnt feel so bad about my pain but i still cannot remember the last time i was happy. im sure it shows in my eyes. at dinner tonight i actually voiced consideration about seeing a psychologist like my obgyn suggested, mom wants to see if the Lupron helps first but if i never pick myself up from the ground she said we would see one. 

ive been picturing suicide more clearly and vividly for a little while now and it freaks me out everytime...and the only thing thats stopping me from actually pulling through...is one special girl and my parents. i dont want to disappoint them. depress them. 

right now all im wearing is a tank top and thin yoga pants...because i have to remind myself that im here, real...not an empty skeleton. and i think freezing my ass off alone in my house on new years is the perfect way of going about that. ciao.


Recovery Day 5.

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It's the 5th day of my post OP after Monday's exploratory laparascopy and I feel absolutely, ridiculously, horrifically terrible. I wake up everyday feeling nauseous. Every time I stand up I have to do it slowly so I don't jostle my scarred organs too much. I have to maneuver myself in awkward ways so that I can get in and out of bed alone.

The surgery took an hour and a half longer than what they planned because they actually found what they thought was there: endometrial tissue covering my uterus and ovaries. Which proves to everyone out there, I do in fact have the disease Endometriosis and I will for my whole life. They had to make larger incisions to get to the scar tissue that covered the vital organs and burn it off. During that process they hit my ureter, so its been really hard to pee lately haha. And I also had to have a blood transfusion like they warned about, hip hip hooray. Its like starting all over, teaching organs and muscles what their function is.

Supposedly, my parents and nurse told me, I woke up from anesthesia screaming because they hadnt given me ANY pain killers; therefore I was granted 5 shots of morphine, mmm. And then I couldnt stop scratching my nose because the morphine made me itch all over and my pain meds that Im on right now do the same so I seem like a druggie because Im always scratching my nose haha.

It is so painful though, my dad said he was surprised that I wasnt in the "chewing nails" stage since its the 5th day of recovery. The pain killers havent seemed to help today, which is disappointing because they were working well for a few days. ANYWAYS more later, 4 more weeks of recovery to go. And in 2 weeks, NEW TREATMENT!


For the sake of Christmas :]


The Day Before Surgery

I think I just had one of the best moments with my mother.

As we're sitting here looking through PostSecret, she is picking out various postcards that apply to her past as well as the creators. Then we start to read Zen Moments, which are about good acts of kindness that people that done that touched and changed their lives forever and all of a sudden all we know is that we've both got tears running down our faces and we know its not from sadness. Its because we both have done these things and we never actually knew others did the same acts. Just like recently the man's credit card in front of me at Starbucks was declined so I stepped up and paid for his coffee and it wasnt anything really abnormal for me because I didnt really think much of it. And when we were waiting a the barista for our coffee to be made he turned to me with tears welling in his eyes and thanked me for being so kind, he explained that his family was struggling to barely make Christmas this year (then again, who isnt) and that he thought he would be able to indulge in something small like a tall Americano, just a tall and I shocked him by being so young and generous and that he wished he knew more people like me. I told my mom this and she was really proud of me, and the next time we went into the coffee shop the waiter behind the counter greated my mom by saying "you know you've got a little humanitarian there, right?" and she smiled huge and said "yes, i know i do, its pretty amazing." But as soon as we got out to the car she was bawling...because 10 years ago or so my parents bank account was down to the minimal figure of $10 and they barely had any help starting from the ground up and she also said that she "wished we had more people like me."

Maybe thats my purpose, to help people. 
Can I help people with art?
With photography?
Im already joining the Peace Corps after college.
Im a FREAKING TOMS intern, haha :]

It seems like my calling...because I already love to volunteer, the majority being at Frisco Resale for service hours (and Frisco Humane Society, for fun) required for NHS when all my other NHS-ers are gripping about how boring and dirty it is...and what they dont know...is that I volunteer there on a pretty regular basis aside from the REQUIRED service. 

Also my chapter of Friends of Rachel [the offshoot student group of Rachel's Challenge] has raised $856 for CS, a junior that was diagnosed and has been going through chemotherapy for spinal cancer this year. I am so proud, that means we sold 428 "angels for Cody" which kids bought for $.50 and wrote messages to him wishing him well and hope. For Christmas our FOR sponsor delivered the money and the angels to Cody's family to help cover the cost of chemo so that they could have a decent Christmas like everyone else.



Today my Mom self-identified herself with the most awkward, introverted, mother-hen type female contestant on "Mama's Boys" and she spilt out her feelings about hating the way it feels while driving to Barnes and Noble. She used to think it wasnt so bad but when she saw it on TV, for herself rather, she really got to thinking.

It made me feel horrible to hear the sadness in her voice after so many years of secluding herself from the world. A few years ago she shared with me that her biggest downfall was being so nice to everyone. My Mom was always the cheerful, happy, always smiling person that tried to make someones day better with a smile; until someone asked her: "why are you always so happy? why do you smile so much and never talk?" and that ended my mom's happiness for what seems like forever.

Up until recently [past 2-3 years] she was constantly looking for reasons to stay at the house. But when she finally pushed herself back into her normal routine and sought after a gym she found one special lady that made her day better, with a simple smile. Now she has weekly 'coffee dates' with her girlfriends and they plan parties situated around each others lives as well as their simultaneous parties so they can all be at the same ones together... and all because someone finally smiled back at her. And it really makes me wonder; why arent there more people like my Mom and her friends?


My newest favorite word.


i use it as an adjective.
it makes me feel alive and serious.


Blogging from school...

It's really sad that all I have to be excited about when I wake up is that I got a good nights sleep.

And then an hour after waking, my enthusiasm starts to weaken and I remember that all 5 of my dreams from the "good nights sleep" were about a girl I should really just give up on.

I still find it fascinating that I can post to my blog from my school's publication center while Im supposed to be writing about our GAY STRAIGHT ALLIANCE [suck it homophobe conservatives] and making the design that is due in 2 days that has not even been thought about. No design exists, no stories are done. Next week should be fun.


Can I Walk With You - India Arie


Dec 2nd

My last blog was the stupidest thing I have ever written. Oh well, we move on.

Our first TA (Tolerance Alliance) meeting was yesterday and it went...alright. Lauren seemed a little frazzled but she still spoke professionally (no voice shaking like I usually do). The 'meeting' was a casual grouping of supporters and gay students all meshed together in the art room eating pizza, chatting and getting to know one another. We tried to brainstorm volunteer opportunities to promote tolerance around the school but we were kind of brainDEAD by that point, hopefully we can come up with some creative things soon; our next meeting is Dec. 15th. 

On another note, its only our 2nd day back in school after what seemed like a VERY short week long Thanksgiving break. It gets shorter and shorter every year. But anyways so it's only the 2nd day back and I am already overloaded with art projects, english projects, newspaper stories and design, an orchestra concert and 4 tests that all have to be done soon. I've also had multiple emotional breakdowns, but Im finding ways to curb the hurt. I flat out RAN 2 miles after the TA meeting yesterday because its so hard to look at her and know I cant have her back. Im doing yoga tonight so I can get over the frustration of sitting on stage waiting a whole hour to even begin rehearsal- all the while everyone BUT my orchestra director is ready to start. 

Im a big mess right now but Im playing like everything is cool.
Have I built too much of a wall?
Should I finally get some help?
I think Im in the acceptance stage of knowing that Ill die young.



Oh running shoes, you fantastic concoctions of leather and nylon.
PUMA you have my soul.
Underarmour, ah how warm you keep me.
Soffe's you hide my ass from the outside world.
Goody, you hold my loose hair back from my sweaty face.
Thank you.