I'm sorry this blog seems to get all my bad stuff. It's just because the DeviantArt one is more public, and when I go crazy I want it to happen here, where just the people I love the most are going to see it.
This is going to be depressing and probably scary for people I love. It's going to be self-indulgent and explicit, and it's going to talk about feminine problems. I hereby apologize and point you to the door. You will not enjoy this, but I need to get it out of my system, so feel free to vacate now. I won't hold it against you. If you go on reading, don't call me later and tell me all that I should be doing differently. I know, and I've probably already done it. I just need to get some of this shit in my head out of my head. If I tell anyone I trust enough to tell, they'll tell me everything's going to be fine, but I should be doing this and that and whatever else, which I know and I've heard. Or they'll be scared on my behalf, which doesn't make me feel any better.
So in this garden that belongs to me and where I reign, such as it is, we are doing this. There will be none of the aforementioned here. Don't tell me everything's going to be fine unless you have a reason, honest scientific evidence for everything being fine. And don't tell me I should have done something about it before, because I know. I didn't. I'm paying for it and I don't need to be told. Tell me what I can do if it's not obvious, if it's something I might not know. Tell me you love me.
I'm scared. I haven't had a period in almost four months now. I'm not pregnant unless it's the most amazing stealth pregnancy ever, which produces no morning sickness, no symptoms, and defies multiple pregnancy tests. Which means... I don't know. I should have gone to the doctor a long time ago, as soon as I started being sexually active. You know... three years ago.
I haven't been to Planned Parenthood or any girly doctor since my abortion a year and a half ago, and understandably they were focussed on other things at the time and there wasn't a comprehensive checkup. So I am very remiss in my duty in this area.
I've never missed a period before. Mine are not especially regular, frequently late, occasionally two weeks early. But they are always, always present.
As several people have told me, there are any number of things it could be, anywhere from dire to inconsequential. Naturally, my mind is fixing on the dire. The kinds of possibilities Brendon doesn't even want me to mention in his presence. So they just racket around in my head without anyone to help me deal, and now they're coming out here. Here's another chance to leave before the bad stuff.
...
Everybody gone?
Okay, good. I love you guys. I'll catch up later when I'm feeling better.
What if it's something terrible? What if there's something horrible and uncurable inside me? What if something's gone wrong inside, what if it can't be fixed, what if the child I chose not to have a year and a half ago was the only child I'll ever be able to have? What if it's worse than that? What if I've waited too long and it's already too late to cure whatever it is? I'm still not even able to say the word that's in my head, but by god I'm screaming it in here. What if I've been so lucky with finding the people I love and need most so early in my life because I'm not going to have very long? What if I never get the time to finish my book and I've wasted the time I've had? What if I'm never going to get the time to correct my bad habits, be the strong and capable and beautiful person I want to be? What if how I am is how I'm going to be remembered forever? What if I never get a chance to go anywhere off this continent, what if I never get to see Ireland or Scotland or China or any of the wonderful places I want to go? What if I never get to meet Brock or Kelsey in person, what if I never get to meet Brendon's family, what if I never get to marry him?
Look away. I'm going to say it so maybe I'll stop thinking it.
What if I have cancer and I'm going to die?
I've got to stop. I don't think this helped.
