UGLY

Whats ugly? I have never really been what I or anyone who was close enough not to be kicked would be called UGLY. I’m not gorgeous. Not ever Sport Illustrated material…certainly not Playboy material…but I guess I was around the cute arena…not beautiful…not ugly…maybe not exactly pretty…depends on who you ask I guess.

It’s hard being a female. We are judged so harshly on how we look. We can be dumb as a rock, but if our hair is long, lush and blond and our boobs are taut and full and bellies flat….we are HOTTIES!  In my “hay day” I know I was a cutie….never Pamela Anderson of course…more of a I dunno…quiet and less punk Pink. I always felt ugly or worse…invisible as I do now. But looking back I think…I was pretty! I was well built! I was smart! I was caring! I was funny! I LOVED.

So what was WRONG with me? I was cheated on. Physically abused. Emotionally abused. Tossed aside for the newer model…so what was wrong with me? For years I decided it WAS me. I was ugly or fat or bitchy…I’m no at the age where I get it…it wasn’t me. It was HIM> HE had issues.  I don’t know how God expects us all to mate up and live happily ever after, when men have some defefctive wire in them telling them to go procreate with as many skanks as they can get to grovel around them….I mean, if I were male…I could see the appeal.

This whole Charlie Sheen fiasco is case in point. What a sick demented and tortured soul this guy is…sure , looks good from his perspective I guess..porn stars, and strippers as his Goddessess…all the coke u can snort, money to burn, boats to chill on, islands to buy…but he is NOT happy. He is miserable…he is slowly killing himself.  Is is self esteem? self respect? ego?

I dunno. I’m just saying that I know as  a woman, I have felt and been MADE to feel as if I am not pretty enough…for whatever reason…and I am now middle aged..disabled…chubby…ill…and yet…I now KNOW I am beautiful, and no one can take that from me. All my young life I felt ugly…when I truly was a very pretty girl…I never got to enjoy that…ever.  Now I’m on that fast stretch headed to the bigh five oh….I’m gonna enjoy the looks I have left…and if you don’t like em…turn away…grab a playboy or SI….cuz this is what a real woman is…and if you need more….good luck to you trying to either look good enough or get rich enough to get better!

Too old for pink polish?

Ok…I’m having one of those “Everything hurts and I’m emotional” days.  So, I wake up this morning, as soon as I moved I had to blink back tears.  I have tendon problems in both elbows from taking Levaquin last Summer for a UTI…it’s a side effect that alot of people don’t know about…it can cause tendon rupture…usually in the tendon on the back of your heel, but can occur in any tendon.  So, lucky me…it got my elbows!  Now, the incredible thing is, there isn’t much they can do about it!  I have had cortisone injections in them and taking oral steroids and worn braces, but nothing helps.  The pain is honestly excruciating!  I stopped complaining to the docs, because it seemed nothing could be done, other than surgery and they can forget that crap!

Anyway…back to the start of my day…so, as soon as I moved my arms I was about to cry due to the pain…but I sucked it up as usual…laid there and tried to slowly stretch all my limbs to loosen up.  Rolled over on my side to try to get my pain gripped body out of bed and of course the pain in my abdomen nearly caused me to drop to the floor when I stupidly tried to pull myself up to a sitting position, and the adhesions/scar tissue/neuromas in my belly screamed out LOUDLY.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, my mouth is dryer than any desert (side effect of meds I assume), I take a drink of water, grab my pill box and start pulling out the morning meds, now this should be a smooth process, but is it?  No.  I have a “pouch” on my esophogus that little pills like to get caught in…so, I generally try to remember to take the little ones first so the bigger ones can catch them and push the little ones down…cuz if I don’t…they get caught and it turns into a big choking/retching episode that is not pleasant.  Well I was lost in pain and took the big ones first and of course one of the little ones got caught in the pouch!  Luckily I have learned to keep crackers in my nightstand to hurry and eat to push the damn pills down, so this is what I did.

So, at this point I have been up for about 10 minutes and already NOTHING has gone right for me.  I stand up, thinking “Does everyone feel this shitty in the morning?” I walk hunched over as I always must in the morning, cuz my abdomen hurts the most then I guess cause I move in ways I shouldn’t in my sleep…or because I’ve gone all night without pain meds…not a pretty look.  I get to the bathroom and I KNOW I still have that damn UTI…there is evidence…it makes me mad cause now I gotta call the doc and go in there and get more antibiotics or she is gonna make me go to a urologist or some dumb crap…more medical bills I don’t need.  Then I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth, which are also a constant source of pain even after putting $7,000 in them a couple years ago…I cannot wait for them all to rot to the point some dentist will pull them and give me dentures!  I haven’t been able to chew on my right side for 3 years!  And I have an extreme phobia of the dentist, so that doesn’t help matters.

So, I get my cup of coffee…grab a piece of toast so there is something in my tummy for the meds.  My husband comes in with a gardening magazine and is showing me different flowers and plants he wants for the yard…I give my opinions and we have small talk.  I just happen to say “Honey, look at my fingernail polish!  Isn’t it pretty?”  Hoping for a “Yea, it is!” But instead, what I got was a weird look and a “That color polish is for a younger woman or girl! You’re too old for it.”  I was stunned….hurt….and PISSED!  WTF?  Too old for a bright pink polish?  How do you come to that conclusion?  And why would you say such a thing to your wife, who obviously liked the polish?

It really was stupid, I know, but it hurt my feelings, and I went into immediate “Cold shoulder mode”….He just couldn’t understand why I got upset.  This is a man, who as I have stated in previous blogs is a saint for all he has had to do for me since the doctor butchered me in 2005/2006.  But…this is also the man  who rarely if ever gives me any kind of compliment.  In fact on our honeymoon he told me he didn’t ever want me to feel or think I was pretty.  Well, mission accomplished buddy.

So, then since my day was going so damn well, I went into my “Screw you, I am going to clean everything in this house and hope I die in the process!”  Insane?  Yep.  When I get mad, I clean.  My house is clean all the time anyway for the most part. So first I started dusting, then doing the windows then I got on the treadmill for about 15 minutes.  Pain?  Oh you betcha!  Pain that would put most people to the point of passing out.  The pain said, “You better sit the hell down, or I will sit your ass down!”  I sat down.  The tears started.  I got mad because I was crying.  I got mad because it hurts my abdomen to cry and to blow my nose.  I got mad that the doctor did this to me.  I got mad that I am getting older.  I got mad that my elbows hurt so bad I can’t lift a water bottle without major pain.  I got mad that I have to take a half cup of pills every day just to get by.  I got mad that I saw dirt on the floor that I can’t bend over to clean up properly.  I got mad that we are living in this house that I hate.  I got mad that on top of my chronic pain and chronic diseases, I also have to keep getting these damn urinary infections.  I got mad that I am heavier than I should be because I can’t exercise enought to lose weight, because of the pain.  I got mad that my husband insulted my PINK FINGERNAIL POLISH!

I then asked my daughter and her friend to run the sweeper, and to please change the sheets on my bed (it hurts me to push the sweeper and making my king size bed is also alot of bending and pulling that hurts too much), so they got that stuff done for me.  I gave my baby Daisy a bath, which she hates, but she smelled like she’d been rolling in dead bodies.  I took extra pain medication…took a shower and then laid down and prayed.  Prayed for the pain to subside…just a little.  My innerds felt on fire.  Like Freddy Kruger was in there sharpening his blades.  My elbows were throbbing.  I wanted to cry HARD.  Really let it out.  But I couldn’t, it would just cause more pain. 

Now it’s 11pm.  I’m laying here watching tv…sort of…and blogging.  My husband will be home from work soon.  Am I still gonna be giving him the cold shoulder?  Probably not.  He doesn’t get it anyway.  The fact that this new pink polish made me feel “pretty”, it made me happy.  Even though I am in pain and very ill…I still make an effort to look decent.  I put on makeup, do my hair, dress nice, wear jewelery, perfume, etc.  Some days I feel like “why bother?  you are a 43 y/o chronically ill, fat married ugly woman!”  But usually I DO make an effort.  I like to feel like “A Woman”…to feel pretty (even if clearly I fail)…Once in awhile I get a “look” from some stranger (male) and have been hit on here and there…go figure…but secretly inside, it makes me feel good!  Someone actually finds me attractive!  Wow!  But my husband doesn’t seem to…I know he loves me…there’s no doubt…but why he finds it so difficult to make me feel like a desirable woman, is beyond me. 

Anyway…here is my conclusion.  IF WEARING BRIGHT PINK POLISH MAKES ME FEEL HAPPY AND PRETTY, THEN DAMMIT I AM GOING TO WEAR IT!!!

So tonight, I put on a 3rd coat of it!  And I put it on my toenails too!  So there!

“Truly, it is allowed to weep.  By weeping, we disperse our wrath; and tears go through the heart even like a stream.” Ovid

Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to read my blog.  I appreciate all of you.