pruesaysit

October 7th, 23:16

If you don’t want to read some bitching and moaning, this is your cue to go and look at Cute Overload or something.
I’m so fucking sick of being sick. I try not to complain too much about it coz I know a lot of pricks have it a lot harder than I do, but for the love of fuck, I’ve lost a third of my body weight. I’m in constant pain. It’s been hard. I’m tired all the bloody time. I’m sick of spending all my time in the toilet hurling. I’m sick of having to take spew bags every fucking where I go! It’s been like this for months and I’m just so over it. I’m tired of being told how I look ‘good’ when I feel like absolute shit inside. I’ve got bad skin, I look like I’ve been punched in the eyes but I look ‘better’ coz I’ve lost some weight. How does that work? And then I feel guilty for resenting peoples well intended compliments. I know they mean well, but something stings when they say it.
I’m even afraid to really say all this because a large majority of people associate weight loss with something positive. For me, it’s been incredibly negative. I didn’t set out to lose weight, it just came as a consequence of being so sick. So dealing with all the bullshit that comes with it is kind of unexpected. I’m also struggling with having a different body. I feel like it’s not even mine. I look in the mirror and it’s so different to what I’ve seen staring back at me for so long that it’s completely foreign. My boobs now resemble Tori Spellings monstrosity of a chest. They’re all lop sided and fucked. I’ve gone from being really confidant about my body to really self conscious.
Nothing I own fits me which makes me feel miserable coz I’m constantly pulling and tugging at clothes that are falling off me. Do you know how many times my pants have fallen down in public recently?? Should be hilarious, I know but yah…not so much. I just really fucking hate it. As a result of feeling so badly physically, I really feel like I’m hitting the limit as to what I can take emotionally. I miss the fuck out of Columbo. I have to move all my shit out of the house within 2 weeks, the thought of which is really overwhelming coz I just don’t have the energy. We’ve had non stop drama with the Landlord, all of which seems to fall on me to deal with it. I’ll be so relieved when we move out not to have to deal with it all. I feel like I’m about 30 seconds from crying all the bloody time. In fact, to be honest, writing all this shit down has made me feel really close to tears. It just feels like there’s too much going on. I just needed to get some of this stuff out coz I can’t keep it all bottled up inside anymore. And now, I’m going to go to bed to have a big fuckin cry and hopefully I’ll wake up feeling better in the morning, emotionally at least.

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.

If you don’t want to read some bitching and moaning, this is your cue to go and look at Cute Overload or something.
I’m so fucking sick of being sick. I try not to complain too much about it coz I know a lot of pricks have it a lot harder than I do, but for the love of fuck, I’ve lost a third of my body weight. I’m in constant pain. It’s been hard. I’m tired all the bloody time. I’m sick of spending all my time in the toilet hurling. I’m sick of having to take spew bags every fucking where I go! It’s been like this for months and I’m just so over it. I’m tired of being told how I look ‘good’ when I feel like absolute shit inside. I’ve got bad skin, I look like I’ve been punched in the eyes but I look ‘better’ coz I’ve lost some weight. How does that work? And then I feel guilty for resenting peoples well intended compliments. I know they mean well, but something stings when they say it.
I’m even afraid to really say all this because a large majority of people associate weight loss with something positive. For me, it’s been incredibly negative. I didn’t set out to lose weight, it just came as a consequence of being so sick. So dealing with all the bullshit that comes with it is kind of unexpected. I’m also struggling with having a different body. I feel like it’s not even mine. I look in the mirror and it’s so different to what I’ve seen staring back at me for so long that it’s completely foreign. My boobs now resemble Tori Spellings monstrosity of a chest. They’re all lop sided and fucked. I’ve gone from being really confidant about my body to really self conscious.
Nothing I own fits me which makes me feel miserable coz I’m constantly pulling and tugging at clothes that are falling off me. Do you know how many times my pants have fallen down in public recently?? Should be hilarious, I know but yah…not so much. I just really fucking hate it. As a result of feeling so badly physically, I really feel like I’m hitting the limit as to what I can take emotionally. I miss the fuck out of Columbo. I have to move all my shit out of the house within 2 weeks, the thought of which is really overwhelming coz I just don’t have the energy. We’ve had non stop drama with the Landlord, all of which seems to fall on me to deal with it. I’ll be so relieved when we move out not to have to deal with it all. I feel like I’m about 30 seconds from crying all the bloody time. In fact, to be honest, writing all this shit down has made me feel really close to tears. It just feels like there’s too much going on. I just needed to get some of this stuff out coz I can’t keep it all bottled up inside anymore. And now, I’m going to go to bed to have a big fuckin cry and hopefully I’ll wake up feeling better in the morning, emotionally at least.

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.

I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself in for when I first picked up Columbo. She was a reject from a Breeder and she cried all the way home in the car. I thought it was just because she was in heat, but I soon found out she just happened to talk…all the time. So really, we couldn’t have been a better pair in that way. We bonded straight away. From that night on, it was Collie and I. Actually, for a few brief moments, it was Shelby and I, but I had a change of heart 24 hours in to owning her, coz she didn’t seem like a Shelby, and so Columbo it was, as an homage to Peter Falk’s fuck eyed Detective.

She wasn’t the kind of cat that everyone liked. She had a bitch streak a mile long. It was something I loved about her. She was ballsy. She liked handbags, shoes and butter on bread. She loved to play rough, but she lived to spoon at the end of the night. I miss our sleeping arrangement. We had it down pat. I miss so many things about her. So much so, that I hadn’t been able to write this entry sooner. I figured, maybe she’d come home ? But it’s not going to happen. It’s been 2 months since she’s been missing. My heart is broken. I am just so fucking sad. Yeah yeah, I know…I’m just confirming my position as a crazy cat lady here. But right now, I’m a really fuckin sad cat lady who has just lost the leader of her dark army of cats. Who will do my bidding now??? Bea doesn’t have the mean streak to lead a dark army.

Owning Collie was one of the most awesome things I ever got to do. A cat has never rocked so hard. I hope wherever she is, she’s still kickin it hardcore and giving other cats a hard time. Love you Pussy Gatto.

Pussy Gatto

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.

Some essential reading in dot point form, purely because I’m so tired, but wanted to update. Perhaps there will be some ellaboration when I’m not so apathetic.

• I drank for the first time in 5 years tonight. Well, there was that unfortunate incident with the fruit dessert I made a few months back, but that was unintentional drinking, as I thought the alcohol that I poured over the strawberries would refridgerate out. I now know otherwise.
  Anyway, Nate and I drank tonight. I had 5 cowboys. It’s now about 5 hours later, and I still feel fucked. I had my first official AGB in about 7 years. It was everything I’d remembered.
• Nate and I have been fighting heaps lately. It’s sucking major arse.
• I feel queasy from the grog. Ugh.
• I’ve spent the past few days with Loz. She was in hospital over the weekend for surgery, so she had the week off work and I’ve been keeping her company. I was so glad to spend some one on one time with her. We hadn’t done that for ages, and I really loved hanging out with her.
• Got the cats desexed the other day. Their poor little balls. Well, actually the had huge balls…but not anymore. They’ve been all sooky since, and Chucky has been even more affectionate than normal, if that’s possible.
• Getting the cats desexed pretty much sucked us dry of any money we had. The whole money issue at the moment is worrying me heaps. Things were so much easier before we started sharing money. Now I feel like I have to account for every cent I spend. I’ll be glad when everything is paid up to date, and we can go back to having our own seperate finances again. I mean it worked out well for a while, but just recently Nate and I have had a few arguments about it and it’s just not something I want to argue about.
• I’m feeling increasingly queasy from the grog.
• I’m becoming a dab hand at making pancakes. I’m just letting the word go forth.
• I spent a great arvo with my mum Saturday. I’ve missed our time together alone. We went to Spotlight and then to Parkmore and had a coffee and talked. Things are shithouse for her right now and I just wish I could wrap her up in cottonwool and punch the arseholes that are taking her job away from her square in the face. I don’t know how I can help, but I can’t stand to see her so down.
• Columbo decided crapping in the clothes hamper is a good idea. It’s not.
• I have a few other things on my mind, but I’ll go into them when I’m not feeling so much like I’m going to vomit down my shirt.

Remind me how I don’t drink before I agree to a cowboy, please.

Prue

Originally published at pruesaysit.com. Please leave any comments there.