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lindsey sixteen oklahoma
Hey its lindsey. My name is really Nichole, but I go by Lindsey. I love Xanga. I have a few rules: don't be rude, don't rag on my opinions since they are just that, my opinions, and also, don't ever fight in my comments!
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melodymassacrexxx
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Name: Nichole
Birthday: 1/29/1992
Gender: Female
Interests: Singing, Dancing, Photography, Writing, etc.
Expertise: Writing. Advice. Psychology. Singing.
Occupation: Cosmetologist.
Industry: Writing.
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/4/2008
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| Since I was about eleven or twelve years old, I have had bone/muscle problems. It started in my knees, not allowing me to bend them without pain. I'd wake up in pain in the middle of the night. I've been living with it for all these years. It progressed, and spread into my ankles, wrists, elbows, back, shoulders. All slowly, but it happened. I'm weak, and when hurting myself don't recover. When I tripped in some shoes my sophomore year, outside of my apartment then, I was in a walking boot, on crutches, or with some type of brace on for over six months. Yet I hadn't broken anything. To this day, that ankle still bothers be from time to time. Whatever I have, whatever is eating at me, it is getting worse. I've been to over seven doctors just for these problems, had pints and pints of blood drawn, tons of x-rays, tests, and doctors telling me reasons from my alignment, growing pains, weight, or that I was /faking it/. Alignment? I've tried all the inserts, and even went to an orthopedic doctor who made SPECIALIZED INSERTS TO MY SHOES that were molded from MY OWN feet, and they still didn't work. That theory is shot. Growing pains? Started over six years ago, and just getting worse, yeah sure, it's growing pains. Weight? Really. I started having this when I was perfectly average in weight, and because of this, it has made my previous exercise that I use to do that much harder. FAKING IT?! Yeah for over six years, someone would fake pain, putting themselves through needles, missing school (when she loves school), tons of experimental meds that made me feel horrible, didn't work, or had very horribly side effects. Yeah, I am so faking it, because I just love all that crap. These last few months ( but the last four weeks especially) have proven to me that I am not getting better. That ignoring and excepting the everyday pain isn't going to work anymore. I'm honestly scared. It gets hard getting out of bed, out of a car, just sitting into a chair. I'm scared I might lose my ability to walk, to move, and why would I just say this. I don't want sympathy or attention, because I've been hiding the fact of how bad I was in the beginning, and how it has progressed to now. I know that was wrong, but I thought there was nothing to do, and I could just endure like I always did. I cry now over the pain. When no one is watching, I cry. Today was the first day I cried where people could see me. I don't care anymore. I'm in pain. And even though I hate the doctors, the medicine, the tests. I'm going to try again. I'm afraid if I don't... I might end up worse off. I'm honestly scared that I might not be able to walk or function properly. I just don't know how to do it, how to endure right now. I just need to know I'll be okay. That there is some medicine out there that can help, a cure, or even just a diagnosis so I can live with whatever fate might be my own. I just need to get away from this place, even if the next place isn't any better, at least it will be something... I actually begged for the doctor, or anything to help. Cried to my mother. I'm desperate.
I don't know what other options there are. I need to know that I am not alone in this, first of all. That with all this, even the fact that I downplayed or didn't go into detail about all my problems, that I won't be alone during all of this.
I'm scared. And I don't get this scared.
I've cried, and I just don't cry very much.
This, whatever this is, sickness might be killing me, and if it isn't - it is killing any hope of my living a normal life. | | |
| A lot is going on. I didn't take it all in until just now.
I didn't let it hit me until just now. I need to rant, to breath, to live, to see.
I need to be. Here I can realize, and rant. Maybe here is where clarity,
could come from. Who knows. Today a storm raged, not across the land, or sea, or sky,
but in my mind, where thoughts swirl, move, and wash away. A new family.
Younger brother, Younger sister, and Fatherly Figure.
Can't really say father or dad. I'm not like that.
Long story.
My new sister is a lot like me, a few years younger, and nice!
Haven't really talked to the new little brother, but I was told he is a good guy.
They are both in their teens by the way - just to clarify. The fatherly figure, their father, seems like a guy much different than my mom's old
choices, which I am proud of. I am glad that she seems so happy and safe with him,
and for once I can say I actually like the guy she chose. :]
He is nice, and I have known him generally for a long time, since my mom has known
him for quite some time as well. I'm annoyed.
My grandfather is pretty much making me angry to no point now.
I'll full on rant later, since I have yet to do so at all.
I'm scared.
I absolutely can't believe how my life is changing. I am a Senior, we know this, but
my life is coming up fast. My having a REAL life. Being an adult, living the big life,
I am scared and excited all at the same time. It is pretty overwhelming. I NEED SLEEP.
LOVE TO ALL.
WELL SOME OF YOU =P | | |
| and no one's there to save you.
The song "Welcome to my Life" depicts just how I feel.
I'm not me. Not who I thought me was.
I'm losing myself, and I don't know what to do.
I want any escape from it all, any escape from the pain.
Someone offered, and I almost agreed -
to something I would never do.
But there it is that word "I" who am I anyway?
What happened to me?
When did all of it go to hell?
I wish I knew how to be me.
I wish I knew who that person was.
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| I was thinking about when I was pregnant before. And how it felt knowing that I would be giving life to a human being. Losing the baby was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, but it is even harder knowing that very few people who are close to me know about it. Not one of my family members know. I don't feel like I need to share it. It doesn't affect them, and it is something I don't like to mention out loud. On here, it is different. No one really reads this blog. Just my closest friends, and even then, it doesn't feel like I am giving anything away. I know I need to let it out, but letting it out to some people could be hazardous. It doesn't matter know, or it shouldn't, at least, to anyone but me. I think about it all the time - think about her. I don't know, I had it in my mind that it was a girl, even though I never knew, and never will. I was going to name her Kaelie Elizabeth.
Even if it had turned out that I was going to have a boy, I would still have been happy. I'll admit 'the father' wasn't the greatest guy, not even close, but that didn't matter to me, because she (or he) was part of -me- in so many ways. At first I was scared, surprisingly not if my grandparents would kill me (because really, what could they do? kick me out? I doubted it - my sister and mother had both had children under the age of 18, and that is no excuse, but still, they might have been disappointed, but I would have still gone to school, and figured it out. There were options.) What I was most worried about was if I was going to be a good mother, if I was going to ruin this child's life! I was scared out of my mind, but some very important people really helped me through it, and then clarity came and I felt ready, scared and worried, but ready for what was ahead. I had a miscarriage. I don't think I have ever felt so horrible and no logic would ever change that. People (the few who knew) were either trying to help me cope, or there was this one case where someone said that is was whatever, that it hadn't even grown to look like a human being yet. SO WHAT?! Because it wasn't fully a baby yet, it wasn't alive? It was still alive, just growing, as we all have had to do.
The point is, I have struggled with this loss forever, and I know I will continue to, because it was one of the hardest things to go through, but I realized something. Recently, I 'decided' that I would 'live my life' and then settle down into a relationship, have kids, and all of that final future stuff. But then I thought about Kaelie, as I often do sometimes, and also was brought to think about children again when future questions came up, and the presense of children was about to become relative to some very important people in my life. So much contributed to the things I have most recently decided.
Forever, I have wanted to be a teacher, struggling between what grade I want to teach. I want to teach kindergarten most of all, I have decided. I want to feel that feeling you get from shaping a child's life. Teens and preteens already can take care of themselves and guide themselves, but small children still need lots of love and compassion from many many people. I got to this decision when working on my paper about my future career and future life. And not too shortly after (a day after or so, actually) a question in another class came up for a journal entry: "Where do you see yourself in ten years?" Hm. Well, before this, I imagined it all only being about my career, but now I think not.
Recently, I read a blog of someone who went through a pregnancy only to have to give up their child to another family and how hard it was on them. The explanation of her struggles through the pregnancy, but also the miracles through it made me relive the small time I was pregnant, and then imagining if I had made it all the way through - how it would feel.
I realized, that I do want to enjoy my career and life, but I also want to have a child. Not tomorrow or anything, but in the relatively close future, yes. Once done with my schooling (college as well), that is what I want. Another thing, is as I take care of my small four month old nephew I feel amazing, just as I did with my brother when he was that age, and with my other nephew when he was that age, and then that feeling I had when I had finally accepted my own situation (before it ended so horribly). I've thought about it a lot lately, more so than I thought I would. And having a child IS a beautiful thing, and it will better life - no regrets. Postponing life would be pointless. I've wanted to be a mother since I was going to have to be, and that feeling never went away. The only reason I thought about "living my life" and waiting until much farther in the future was that I was afraid of having it happen again, or it being worse the next time. I was afraid of that feeling coming back and especially if it ended up more horrible than before. I didn't think I could stand it. But the risk is worth it. And when the time is right, I want to be a mother. I really do.
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| I don't see how it makes any sense at all.
Lets look at the difference in numbers, shall we?
I had exactly one, greasy, popped yoke, fried egg for breakfast.
My grandfather had four nice fried eggs, four (or more, wasn't paying attention after I counted four) large-ish biscuits, a butload of fried potatoes, and two or three turkey sausage patties.
YET.
My grandmother gets on to me as I was TRYING to cook me three fried eggs (and nothing else to eat with it, since I am sick and can't swallow much). She went on an one about conserving and how "this family never seems able to" (conserve).
Okay, we have ONE breakfast a week (always sunday unless something prevents us from this and then it is saturday). I only have that ONE breakfast a week, with very little compared to everyone else in my house eating it. And THEN my grandfather has multiple more breakfasts during the week (four eggs every single time) and I GET YELLED AT? What they hell. So you know what I did (I had already put one horrible egg into the hot grease [which I hate doing] and then I had two in my hands, ready to crack) I put them RIGHT BACK IN THE FRIDGE.
I was decent enough to LISTEN TO HER after yelling at me and put the eggs back, although I couldn't put the other one back. I would have just not eaten. And I wasn't planning on eating anything but three eggs. And I was also not planning on anything for lunch. In fact I was going to either sleep all day because I don't feel good, or I was going to go to my sisters (where there is ABSOLUTELY NO FOOD) in her fridge and she had no stove right now, so even if she did, it wouldn't matter. So THREE EGGS was all I would eat for pretty much the ENTIRE DAY. Except I MIGHT have had soup for dinner (which is 15 cents) so there.
I'm just pissed.
I AM SICK AND STAVING RIGHT NOW.
Yet he gets to sit and eat all that FOR ONE OF THE MANY MEALS HE WILL SURELY EAT TODAY?
How is this fair?
I just want to cry - not because of how unfair it is, but because it hurts to breath, to cough, and to eat. And now I hurt because I am literally starving.
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