Lost in Transformation
I’ve been thinking about my life rather often of late and what I have come to realise is that I don’t know what to think anymore.
I have a job where I am relatively happy and that pays fairly well, considering. I have a loving mother and beautiful animals. I have a handful of really good friends and a few acquaintances. I have a brilliant and giving brother and a semi-involved father. I am intelligent, funny (at times) and most people seem to like me.
What I am not is what bothers me. What I have not accomplished bothers me.
According to society I should be very successful. I should be designing huge mansions. I should be earning 10k plus. I should have a car and go out partying as often as I can. I should be ambitious and value my job above everything else in my life. I should be doing something about my weight, actively. I should be motivated and be busy on weekends. I should stop drinking and smoking and live every day like it’s my last. I should want to be someone in life, make my mark, be the best I can be.
I’m not.
This shouldn’t bother me but for some reason it does. If you look at things differently, none of this bullshit matters. There are so many people on this earth yet every single one of us thinks we’re all important. Nothing really matters in life except fundamental stuff like love, happiness, joy, peace. In my mind, what matters is that I am happy NOW. I am alive NOW and this is what makes the present so important – so enjoy it while it’s here. Right? Wrong! I should be working my ass off preparing for a future I might not have. I should spend all hours of my waking life being “busy”. People don’t care what you’re “busy” with, as long as you’re not sitting on your ass watching tv.
Fuckit. I just don’t know anymore.
I feel so fucking inadequate but the best part of all this is that I’m so useless that, most days, I just don’t give a fuck. It’s too much of a mission for me to get off my ass and DO something. I could exercise, but it’s hard work. I could stop drinking so much, but I like being buzzed before I head off to bed. I could quit smoking but it’s too hard. I could stop procrastinating but I just don’t feel like it.
I could do so much, but I don’t.
Even my father thinks I’m useless. Last night he told me “You’re going nowhere in life”. A friend told me I am wasting my life. My manager wants me to live up to my “potential”.
Does it really matter what I look like or what I do with my life? Granted, I’ll be happier if I lose the weight I have picked up in the last three years. Granted, I’ll be happier if I could earn just a little bit more money. Granted, I’ll keep everyone off my case if I conform to society and “be all I can be”. But fuck, man. Does it all really matter?
Does it really?
In the greater scheme of things, it doesn’t. Not really.
The Verdict Is In
Friday was the big day and even though I was probably not allowed to, I sneaked a peek at the images and the report done by die Radiologist. The verdict is that I do, indeed, have a “Micro Adenoma” on my Pituitary Gland. This Adenoma is also causing my Pituitary to lean slightly to the left, because it is growing on the right side of the gland.
All that remains now is to make an appointment with the Neurosurgeon, then we can discuss my options. As some of you may know, the medication to shrink this 4-5mm Adenoma will more than likely render me unable to conceive. Naturally, I will not take this fact lying down and I have decided to make some sort of plan before commencing treatment. By the sounds of things this ‘growth’ is stil very small which means that pregnancy shouldn’t be too risky. Since your pituitary grows slightly during pregnancy it could be a teeny bit dangerous for me to attempt seeing as there is already increased pressure from this thing growing on the side of my gland.
*sighs*
All I need now is an open-minded, dark haired, greenish blue-eyed young man willing to donate his seed in order for me to have what I most desire at this stage of my life – A child. I have done some research and I cannot afford to go the Sperm Bank route – the consultations alone cost about R1000 and I do not think there will be just one of those. So, unless I start a “Get Joni Pregnant” fund, I am slightly screwed.
Then…that is it for the day, I suppose.
Wish me luck.
More Refried Info
Tomorrow is the day I have been waiting two years for…the day of the dreaded and most feared MRI. Eeep. I went to the Brain Doc two years ago and this was when I was told that I need this famous bloody MRI. So two years down the line and I am finally on my own Medical Aid and am finally going for this scan. Tunnels freak me out. Seriously. Even moreso a tunnel that makes UFO noises when it’s taking pictures of your fucking brain, bru.
*sighs*
I hope they let me keep the pictures though… *giggles* I would really really like to know what my brain looks like (if that’s even what I’ll see when looking at the scans).
On a different note – I have not heard from “Jack” again (thank gods). The Muse is quiet as well. Which sucks, but I realise he’s got his life now and I suppose so do I.
Work is really driving me insane…the men here treat my like a half-person but it’s all good, I have decided to write my manager a nicely worded e-mail stating all my grievances and if things do not get better in three months, I will be taking it up with the boss himself. If after another three months things are still the same I will be forced to seek other employment. Ja. Net so.
It’s not like I really want to leave but I just cannot carry on here with the way things have been going. I feel excluded from all the fun stuff because I am mos much to busy with my crappy little affordable housing units to be involved with the bigger, cooler, more interesting projects. Bah. Humbug.
And then, in closing – I found this to be berry funny:
According to this here article this picture was taken just before Hoverball Cat took off at supersonic speed. It sounded like a whistle and a scream and the ground caught fire.
*cackles*
*signs off*
It’s Been A While…
…since I blogged :) At least this time I have some interesting facts to relay. Some *really* interesting facts, if you ask me.
This past weekend was the most interesting part, to tell the truth. Here’s a recap, before some details:
Friday night – The Muse came to visit.
Saturday – A naked braai with my fellow Naturists.
Sunday – Moving most of my stuff out of the commune and back into Mom’s place.
Sunday night – Jack arrived at my house.
For those of you who don’t already know, The Muse is my “One That Got Away” and I hadn’t seen him in two years before Friday night. We met four years ago, had a whirlwind romance of about five months and went our seperate ways. We became something resembling friends in the meantime but the sexual undercurrent has never quite managed to disappear…hence the fact that we ended up at the Formula 1 on Friday. Even though I do not want to go into the exact details, I feel I have to get this out before I burst – It was THE most amazing sex I have had in about eighteen months and that is no exaggeration, honestly. The most perturbing fact about that night is that it was like time had never passed…as if we have not spent the last four years without so much as a caress passing between us.
*sighs happily at the recollections*
Then, the Naked Braai – I think it speaks for itself? hehe…same goes for the moving house bit.
What unsettled me more about the weekend was The Muse and then, out of the blue, Jack. I named him Jack becuase at first he was my lover, my friend…my “Master Jack” as the song goes. Then, once we had broken up after a chaotic year together, he was “Hit the Road Jack”‘s Jack. Anywho…he was an ass to me, cheated on me and married his new love a mere two months after our break-up. So, Sunday night he phones me and tells me that my prediction came true, his marriage has ended after two months and that I should put THAT on DeviantART. Confused as I was, I just sat there, stunned. Then Mother sms’ed him to ask if he’s ok and he phoned her, spilling a few beans – such as the fact that he was one his way to his dealer again and that he was going to crash his car etc etc.
Now, being the person I am, I couldn’t sit idly and watch him self-destruct so I asked him to come to my place, where we could talk and he said he’s already on his way there.
Long story short – his alleged reason for coming that night was to “clear his Karma”, he doesn’t want bad karma in his life…but how much apologising is needed to clear his karma? More than one, methinks.
So ja…what a weekend, in my opinion.
Sjoe.
Random Meme F2F Blog Challenge
If I could learn to love myself more, I’d be fine.
In my kitchen cupboard 2min Noodles, great coffee and treacle sugar.
On my desk everything but the kitchen sink.
Image in my head dark cloudy days, unfortunately.
In the middle of my to do list registering with SACAP. Should be at the top of my list…Maar nou ja.
I am dreading everything, at the moment.
Right now I want to be happier and not feel so damned nauseous..
I think a hug would make it all better.
Going to order myself a nice, unhealthy WACKY WEDNESDAY!.
The Big Yawn
Gods I am utterly exhausted this morning, no idea why though.
So…I decided to move back in with the Mother (as of two nights ago) and she was absolutely overjoyed at the news – I even got a kiss out of the deal *laughs*. The whole idea of moving back in has kept me thinking for about two months now but in the end it just makes more sense. Financially I will be saving around R1500 a month. Emotionally we will both have a shoulder to cry on and a helping hand to get us off our asses and *do* something for a change. Medically I will have someone to drive me around again :)
All in all a win-win situation, methinks.
We agreed to share most of the costs so that we all get a fair deal, which is awesome…and our three dogs are naturally over the fucking moon that I am back. There’s an Alsation named Scarlett, a Bichon Frise by the name of “Bekkie” (very original, I know) and a little Pavement Special named Stanley (affectionately known as Fish). Bekkie is a runaway who picked our house and our dogs to be his new home and family. He joined the fold approximately 7 years ago, bearing many stolen gifts and once even a bloody dead rabbit. We suppose this was his way of convincing them that he is a proficient hunter, making him a valuable addition to the pack. *shakes head* He truly is a very strange dog, to be honest.
Onto other things…Mother is starting to question my motives for having a child and although I don’t want to admit it, I think she might just be right. *sighs* I’m seeing my psychologist (Sugar) again next week, for the first time in almost two months…which is good. The weekly sessions I started with have turned into monthly sessions – hopefully a sign of progress?
I haven’t thought about SI-ing in about two months, which is the last time I slipped and “fell”. I should be proud of myself but for some reason I just feel nothing and I can’t help but wonder why.
Anywho…let us not get caught in such thoughts, it *is* a good thing to have gone so long without it, after all. :)
Just a Little Taggit – For The Fun of It
Stolen from the beautiful Wenchy
Outside my window… I can hear the sounds of the city, a little louder than white noise.
I am thinking... about my impending MRI and what possible changes the result could bring about.
I am thankful for… my changing perseption about life, love and everything else. For friends, family and pets.
I am wearing… A long floral print skirt with a black top and plenty of accessories :D
I am remembering… what a sad little person I was just two years ago.
I am going… to be happy, content and at ease with myself and my life.
I am currently reading… “Along Came a Spider” by James Patterson – not very far into it, though.
I am hoping… that these good feelings last…and that I fall pregnant this year with a healthy, beautiful baby girl ;P
On my mind… Moving back into The Mother’s place, the MRI, my Art Project, my new hairstyle :D
Noticing that… I am multi-tasking quite well today!
Pondering … why I have been having nightmares of late.
From the kitchen… comes the silence of a kettle NOT boiling… *decides she should probably make some coffee*
Around the house… lie what The Mother calls my “Snail-Trail” – all the things I use but never return to their rightful places… hehe
One of my favorite things… laughter :)
P.A my F.N A.S
One day I am going to be brave enough, tough enough and bitchy enough to tell my boss where to gett off. When that day comes I will be able to tell him to shove his coffee where the sun don’t shine, followed by his fucking faxes and his miserable bloody copies.
I studied Draughting for three years and earned my diploma with the proverbial blood, sweat and tears and what do I have to show for it? Well, I make a helluva cuppa for my klein-mannetjie-sindroom boss, and I am the fastest faxer in the office! Oh and don’t forget my come-hither voice that comes so highly recommended over the phone!!
*tries to calm herself*
He treats me like his fucking secretary and one of these days I am not just going to smile and nod…one of these days I am going to tell him how I feel about being treated like a PA when I am the furthest thing from it.
I understand that our company is still small and that we cannot, at this point, afford extra hands to do the crappy work but all I want to know is why the men never get asked to make coffee for meetings? Why the men never have to fax his shit for him?
Fuck. Ass.
Ya Well No Fine
It is now 21h16 and I feel the need to blog. Yes, yes…but inspiration strikes at the oddest of moments, not so?
People who know me and my writing patterns know that I do not often blog/journal when nothing interesting is happening. Either something write-worthy has happened or I am just so sad and confused and caught up in myself that I have to get it all out, lest I spazz out.
So…what on earth happened that can be so exciting that I have to write about it? Well, I will tell you…but first, a little history (for perspective and so that you, the reader, can grasp why this is so fucking awesome).
My first big love affair came into being in April 2006. I met a man online and immediately fell for him, head under heels in love. We chatted for three months before meeting in person and after four months of absolute bliss, it ended. This man is known as The Muse in all of my writings and so it will remain – why change something that ain’t broke?
After The Muse I was completely and utterly gutted, so much so that I rushed into the next relationship with the man known as The Fuckwit (his name for himself, not my idea). He was all I needed and wanted, and I was the same for him. We were well on our way to being the Happy Couple – or so we thought. That ended in an every so slightly ugly manner. We attempted the whole “fuck-buddy” routine for a while but he realized it wasn’t working so well for him and thus came the even uglier end of the friendship. We are now friends, and it goes better than the previous attempts.
Anywho. Thereafter came Mr C. Tall with broad shoulders, absolutely adorable smile, big hands and an ever bigger heart – all topped with a wild, untamed bush of curly blonde hair. Decidedly cherub-like, I think. So Mr C arrived in all his ‘otherworldly’ splendor and I say this because he seems that way – not of this planet/age/plane. Naturally I fell for him, really hard. Our time together was memorable, to say the very least. He opened my eyes, my mind and my heart and I, in turn, aspired to being his everything, his alpha and omega. To this day I still am not too sure of exactly how long the two of us had our “thing” but I can tell you that it felt like a lifetime.
At the beginning he warned me not to fall in love with him but before I knew it, I was – irreparably. Needless to say, that little affair also ended – rather messily. Heartbroken and deeply depressed, I coped in all the ways I knew how. I resorted to begging, to stalking and to hounding him at all hours of the day…all in search of answers and a teeny bit of attention.
Time passed and I became involved in my life which lead to us losing contact for quite some time. We only started talking again at the beginning of last year, if memory serves. Our conversations were the same as they were all those long days ago, ranging from money to love, from work to emotions…even the odd debate about philosophy.
But wait…I have skipped a part. Before resuming contact I received an sms from him that completely surprised me while simultaneously fluffing my seriously anemic ego…the sms (quoting from memory here) read something along the lines of : “You know, I have experienced it a lot and with many different women but I have to say that out of all of them, you are best at ‘sucking the cock’…good on you fella(tist).” (side note-the use of the word ‘cock’ in this sms was not meant to be derogatory or crude, that’s just the way he talks). I was suitably chuffed and flattered but life carried on…I mean, I’m not completely ignorant of my pro’s and cons, that would just be silly ;P
During our chats (which have always been quite lengthy and would invariably take place in the dead of night) I learnt that his new girlfriend (who we shall dub Ruby) has developed a fairly irrational dislike in me. Understandably she can’t be expected to like me, as I am an ex of her boyfriend…but to hate me? To so totally abhor me that she cannot stand my name being uttered by her lover? I do declare…that is rather odd, no? Well…apparently there is a logical reason for her hatred towards me – she accidentally read the message he sent to me that night, so long ago. All in all – a purely logical and understandable reason to hate The Ex, I’d think.
This brings me, finally, to the subject of the blog. Earlier today I tried calling Mr C in connection with an sms I sent him on Friday night – one he never replied to. I am aware of the fact that he spends his weekends at Ruby’s place so in an effort to NOT disrupt the peace, I decided to call on Sunday night, thinking he’d be home already. He wasn’t. Half an hour or so later my phone rings and it turns out to be Mr C. He sounded extremely formal and tense but before I could wonder what the matter was, his next sentence explained it. Here’s how the conversation went, more or less:
Mr C: Hi, it’s Mr C here, how’re you?
Me: I know it’s you, I am fine thanks and yourself?
Mr C: I am fine. I need to ask a favour of you.
Me: That’s alright, what is it?
Mr C: The fact that you and I are talking is putting strain on my relationship with Ruby and I just wanted to ask you something. I am going to ask you something and you have to answer loudly so that Ruby can hear.
Me: Uhm, ok?
Mr C: Thank you. Have we ever, since the time we broke up, been in any way involved with each other in a sexual manner?
Me: No, we haven’t. Since you broke up with me in…2007, I think it was? Since that time we have not had any sexual contact whatsoever.
Mr C: Thank you, that’s what I have been trying to tell her. Another thing – when we chat, what are our conversations about, most of the time? Is it the kind of conversations two friends should be having?
Me: Well, of course. We talk about everything and nothing and sometimes you try helping me, you try help me with my problems because I am, after all, depressed.
Mr C: So we don’t talk about matters of a sexual nature?
Me: No, not at all.
Mr C: Thank you for answering that.
Me: It’s a pleasure and I want to say that if our talking is putting so much strain on your relationship then I would completely understand if you do not want to talk to me anymore. I did the same thing with you, when I was with Jack so I completely understand and respect your decision.
Mr C: Thank you, I think it’d be better if we stopped talking for a while, possibly a long while. I’m sorry.
Me: It’s ok, I understand. Bye.
So there ya have it folks. Now…if THAT isn’t the biggest most astonishingly conclusive compliment I have ever received, then I don’t know.
*grins like an idiot*
The only part that saddens me is that I will not be able to talk to Mr C anymore. I just hope it all works out for the best – possibly in such a way that we can still remain friends.
If you’ve come this far without falling asleep or getting bored…I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Like a Moth to Flame
I feel like the December holidays stripped me of something. Stripped me of a really old, really useless layer of skin because I feel strangely renewed, strangely fine.
The Ass (as we will now be refering to the Ex) has been out of my life for almost three months now and he has been married for the last two weeks. I felt really torn up on the day I found out but I am oddly alright with it now. My ego is still bruised but this seems to be my only realy war-wound. My broken heart has mended itself but the broken libido still has some catching up to do.
Those around me who know me and care about me are rather perturbed about this ‘change’ that has come over me. Some of them are happy and some are just seriously confused but either way, I think they can all appreciate that this is a good thing – growth, change, evolution. I cannot say whether this new Verb will survive for long or whether I will return to my old, brain-bashing ways but eh, why not enjoy it while it’s here?
On to things less imaginary and more tangible – I have decided not to move back in with my Maternal because although I will be saving a whole heap of money, I reckon I need my space right now. I need some quiet time with myselves, to figure out who’s in and who’s out. I think I really enjoy my own company, for the first time in ages *smiles*
I am worried about the MRI that I have to go for because should it turn out that I have an Adenoma I would really love to have a child while I still can…I just don’t know if I am ready for one or not. The idea of being pregnant appeals to me, as does the notion of taking care of my little bundle of softness…but will I be able to do the rest of it? When it starts walking, talking, needing more? I don’t know…Maternal proposed to me last night that I am possibly just desperately in need to give of the love that I have in my heart, the love that no man can appreciate. I feel such an enormous fullness in my heart while, at the same time, I feel terribly empty.
Addmittedly…the idea of having someone in my life who I can love unconditionally, without restraint and without fear of judgement sounds really fuckin awesome. But is that fair on the child? Methinks not…
What to do…what to do…
