simply because you can breathe does not mean you are alive or that you really live.

this was my mantra after my open heart surgery in august of 07… now that the 4 year mark is looming upon me i cant help but have those words ring in my ears constantly. i wanted so much after my surgery. i felt like i wanted to see and do and feel everything. i wanted to live my dreams and follow my heart. i was so full of life.

well… it really hit me today that im no closer to any of the things i wanted to do then at this point in my life.

and it actually made me really really depressed….

im getting weaker and sicker, and i know soon enough im not going to be able to escape surgery. how can i be happy or feel content getting back on that table when i havent reached any of my dreams.

i want to cry so badly now.

i blame you for this. for this bout of insecurity. for the paranoia that envelops me. i had escaped these feelings for so long. and now… now they are back, taunting me, proving to me that maybe they never really left. that they were hidden deep inside me, waiting for the chance to make themselves known. you broke my trust, in a very insignificant way compared to those who came before you. but no matter how, no matter the degree… you still broke it. and broken trust is hard to fix. now with every move you make, every word you say or dont say, causes me to think twice. rises up a small but furious panic inside me. i am left to wonder endlessly, to re evaluate everything about you. i jumped off a ledge for you, and i was falling so effortlessly, so gracefully, with no fear about what i would face at the bottom. with so much trust and love and desire for nothing else but you, that in my naive stupidity i decided to leave my parachute behind. and now it seems what once was a conscious decision made in hope, has turned into a fatal mistake. one i can not take back, one i can not simply rectify. i am left to fall into the depths of worry, and doubt. i feel as if i am scrambling to hold onto something, anything. my hands reaching ferociously for a branch or a ledge i can grasp to save myself. maybe i should blame myself for this. was it wrong of me to see something different, something i had never seen before, in your eyes. was it careless to expose myself in such a raw way. my mind says no, that after much careful consideration we decided you would be the best thing for me as of yet. that this moment with you was fleeting and i needed to take my chance while i still had it. but my heart… my heart screams at me. screaming so loud, yes, yes, this is all your fault. how could you do this to us once again. how could you allow him to have such control over me. i was barely healed, i was barely beating on my own, and you handed me over. i had no choice in the matter and i blame you for this, my heart says. i cant take my heart back. i can never get back the pieces i gave to you, the small and bruised pieces i gave to you so willingly. nor do i honestly want to. i want so badly for this to be fixed, and i know that i am the one keeping myself hostage, i am withholding myself from you because i have become so frightened of what Might be. the possibilities stream endlessly through my head. i am becoming my own demise. one little crack, one small untruth has began unraveling before me. thats all it took. it has placed me back where i was years ago, and again my heart whispers to me, it whispers to me do not fool us again. so what am i to do.

Recovery.

Its been a few more days since the surgery and I’m starting to feel better :) I over exerted myself a little bit today, I’ll admit that. I had to run to the college for some stuff and then I had a dr appointment that took foooorrrreeeeeeeever. It was with the rheumatologist, doing more labwork etc to see whats what. The dr said he’s leaning toward fibromyalgia. I dunno what to think about that. Not saying it isnt a real condition, but I guess its not something that people take very seriously. And not saying its super serious, whatevers going on, but I guess it just makes me feel like when I try to explain how I feel people dont take me seriously. Oh well whatever, not that it really bothers me all too much.

My scar is healing up and wow… I just have to say that it actually looks a lot better than it used to. And its not even completely done healing yet. I took the bandage off yesterday and I was floored, I got tears in my eyes because I was so surprised at how much care he took into making it look smoother and flatter and not nearly as noticable. I’m really excited to see how it looks in a couple weeks. I just feel so much more beautiful. The wires are gone and its so nice not to feel the pain they were constantly causing me. He also seemed to take out some scar tissue that had built up over the years. The incision just looks so clean and neat and it doesnt feel like such a distraction to me. I know a lot of people dont really understand how I feel about my scar, and they see me as a beautiful person inside and out, but its always made me feel out of place and sometimes like a freak. Especially when I stand next to my girlfriends, or wear lowcut tops or dresses. I feel like now I can be a little bit more normal. I am so thankful to my surgeon, he didnt have to work so much on the scar itself, infact I didnt expect him to at all, so it was a pleasant surprise. But I couldnt be happier and more grateful to him. Hes been such a great part of my life the last few years and I owe him so much. Well, I owe him my life.

Something that is bothering me though… I recently, well a few months ago, become friends with a girl who has a son with a heart defect. I met her through a friend who knew she was having a hard time and wanted someone who she could talk to. I feel like Ive supported her and been there to answer questions, and even have helped her with her mission to spread awareness of the disease. But when I got my surgery last week she didnt say anything or offer support or even just ask how I was doing. She asked yesterday if I had gotten surgery and I said yes, on Friday, and that was it. No reply or anything. It actually really hurt my feelings… I just really hate it when someone expects you or wants you to be there for them during their hard times, and yet when you need support they arent there at all. Its very selfish and self absorbed I think. I didnt expect her to do anything huge and great, but I kind of wish she had just offered me emotional support, like Ive done many times with her. I dont really know how I feel about her now as a friend. It was really hurtful… I just felt as someone who goes through the life that is similar to mine she would be more understanding and want to support me, like I have for her.

T’s been great through my recovery since I got home. I’m still having trouble raising my arms fully so last night when I wanted to take a shower and wash my hair he sat on a stool while I got in the bathtub and washed my hair for me :) I couldnt ask for a sweeter man. I know I was a little hurt and irritated about this weekend, but you know… he deserves alone time and time off from my illnesses sometimes. And he called and texted to check up on me every day, it really made me feel good and cared for.

All in all its been a wonderful recovery. I have so much support from my friends and family. Its a great feeling. Ive been constantly saying thank you to everyone the past few days, I feel like a dork lol but I dont know what else to say. I am so thankful to everyone whos been there for me through this. And even though it wasnt a life and death surgery, it was still a hard surgery for me to get through because even though they werent fixing my heart they were still opening my chest and those wires are hard to get out, so its so nice to feel their compassion and want to help. I’m not very used to getting that.

<3

so i had sternum surgery yesterday to take out all my sternal wires that were holding my sternum into place after my most recent open heart surgery. not at bad as the pain from the open heart, but wow… still wasnt prepared for that. now im a continuous run of oxy to help curb it… i dont know how much it does for the actual Pain… maybe lessens it a bit, but i guess its just supposed to make you not really care about the pain lol. im staying at my parents house for the weekend because i need to have someone around to help me, yet again, do the simplest of tasks. it kinda sucks that T. made plans… im not really mad, i mean hes been around every other time that ive gotten some surgery or been sick… but i guess im just kind of bummed that hes not here. im a little lonely. its like, my mom and dad and my brothers take amazing care of me, but you know that when you dont feel good or youre in a lot of pain you just want to be around the one you love the most. because even if they are just laying next to you, it automatically makes you feel a little better. he automatically makes me feel better.

give me a bakers dozen please.

someone sang your name today
and a stranger saw me crumble
haul my broken heart and shell away
beggin bury me beside you

the devil popped around today
selling promises and potions
that could take our memories away
help me forget id ever met you

tell me
cant you please
kindly take away the misery
give me a bakers dozen please
wrap me up to go away

the devil bent my ear today
about his magical elixir
that would make the sorrow go away
help me forget id ever met you

give me a bakers dozen please
wrap me up to go away

why does the pain you caused me still hurt so bad. after all this time.

i just dont wanna anymore.

do you ever get homesick.
like i mean really really homesick.

dont get me wrong… i love T. and i love being around him, and with him. falling asleep next to him, waking up next to him.

but sometimes, i get really really homesick.
and its not really homesick for my family or anything
its homesick for my room.

does that even make sense?

usually it doesnt bother me too much
but some days…. it feels like the memory pains every part of me.

i think after B. and i broke up, i just became this really solitary person. well, the last like year and a half of our relationship i spent most of my time alone. so i guess i just got used to it. even when we were together, in the same house… i was alone. even when we were together, in the same bed… i felt alone.

and then when i moved back, i Was alone. and during the beginning of mine and T’s relationship i was still alone when i wasnt out with him.
and i think i just got really really used to it. and its almost like i dont know how to not be alone anymore half the time.

it makes me feel so guilty too.

i want to get a house with him, i love the thought, i cant wait.
but at the same time… theres a small voice in the back of my head just wanting to run.
im not saying break up
im just saying… distance i guess?

i dont know.
theres so much in my head i just honestly cant sort through it all.

and now im in this funk. this depressive episode. this state. this way. and i cant get out.
my limbs feel heavy. its hard to move.
and my feet drag.
my mind cant find a balance between fast and slow.

eventually you just give up on everything.

like the friends who cant keep their word
and always having someone to go to things with

then you stop calling people back
or they stop calling you altogether
then they dont even bother coming around anymore

and absolutely every bone in your body begins to ache
every fucking second, of every fucking day.

Unmasking the Masked

Alright so today has just been fucked since the moment I opened my eyes. I closed them right back up, rolled over, and went back to sleep for a couple hours.

I dont know what the hell is wrong with me today. Well okay no thats a total lie. I may not know Specifically what is wrong, but I know the emotions that are making it feel wrong. I am feeling unsure, and discouraged, and suffocated, and like I’m running on a path that goes no where. Nothing new. I havent had alcohol in 82 days. I honestly thought this would make things a million times better in my life. While it has made some things better… I dont feel constantly sick or hungover, I dont feel the constant pressure, and I dont feel crutched or chained down to something. I just, I dunno, I thought it would make things incredibly more clear. I guess it does and it doesnt. I think it just unmasks all those emotions I hid at the bottom of a bottle. All those emotions I never wanted to face. Which is obviously what made me start drinking so heavily in the first place. I feel like I took of the mask of the monster in my closet and it was me all along. What am I supposed to do with that.

claustrophobia.

youre suffocating me…

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