the ache of a chronic condtion

years ago when my mental illness was raring and i couldn't grasp any hold i thought physical pain would fare better than mental/emotional. i had no idea how wrong i would be.

i've recently been diagnosed with interstitial cystitis. which is basically a big name for experiencing the symptoms of a chronic UTI minus the infection. to be diagnosed with this disease you simply exclude all other possibilities. it is a guessing game until you figure you've come to the right conclusion. women's pelvic/urinary issues are often dismissed and managed with mediocre attention. i've been told my issue is 'in my head' 'it will pass over' 'i will just have to deal'

my bladder is sensitive. what that means to the regular reader is that the lining of my bladder which is supposed to protect from all irritants is broken down and anything i consume (be it foods, vitamins, medications, even water) can irritate and send my bladder and pelvic area into inflammation. i can range from functioning to bed ridden within hours. i can go 13-20 times a day to urinate or 5-8. i can have sudden bouts of urinary urgency or be able to hold back just fine for a couple of hours. i can have severe pelvic pain or light twinges of aches.

i can't eat anything acidic. preservatives and many additives in food bother me greatly. even water has to generally be more alkalizing than your regular tap or bottled. everything has changed for me the last 9 months and i have tried to live in denial for a bit. at first it seemed alright and i continued to eat what i wanted when i wanted. though i would feel a bit of bladder pressure and frequency i thought it had nothing to do with my diet. i was wrong. my doctors told me nothing. i literally had one who simply said "oh wow, yeah, i'm sorry" and then shrugged and said she didn't know and wished me a good day. i've been to the emergency room. i've been to after hour clinics, and urogyno specialists. i've been in 1 clinic so much the MA and i have become good buds.

the last 2 months have caught up with me and diet now makes a huge dent in my everyday functioning. self gratifying (masturbation and general penetration also gives me slight symptom flares hours or a day later). if i stray and eat something that's problematic i will feel the effects. the slight stinging in my urethra. the random twitch of pelvic ache. the frequency in my urinary symptoms increases and the day becomes a monster.

just yesterday i went to an art exhibit at the SAM. while i had a lovely time i was also in a lot of discomfort. my urinary symptoms were acting up and i went to the bathroom 3 times in an hour and a half. and a part of that time i even held it in for longer than i wanted to because i was in line to see individual art rooms at the exhibit. it was highly isolating and made my experience not as great as it could have been had my bladder been calmer. i have been taking supplements, but everyone reacts differently to this disease and there is no one size fits all approach so i am leaning in with caution and very few expectations. i wish to keep this under control but i honestly don't know where i will be months from now, or even years. hell, i don't know where i'll be tomorrow.

eating has become mechanic. i simply do to survive. food no longer holds a great enthusiasm or wander for me. everything is bland. everything has the potential to hurt. even foods i thought where on the safe list sometimes act up. it seems i am currently going through a flare and no matter what i eat i am not faring well. i hope to ride this out soon. at work i seem to function just fine. outside? i am falling apart. and so we keep on.

thought,

so how do i carry on a conversation with someone who keeps tugging at my gut. that feeling of something isn't quite right. yet. that feeling when you're restarting an interaction with a man who completely tore you apart effortlessly and yet, here you are, trying to be-friend and catch up on life like nothing happened. that feeling of, i want us to work out, but you're still making me feel uneasy.

where do i start, and how do i start it.
knowing his constant need to retreat the moment his fragility gets brought out into the open.

i feel
i feel
i feel
to analyzing degrees
of hell.

i can be at my most charismatic to charm the pants (literally - figuratively if you want it PG) of someone i want, but do i even want to set myself in this trap again. my weariness comes as no shock, as time and time again i have been burned by this human being whose words float aimlessly in the air with nothing to grasp to.

is it an air of mystique to him that clouds me, or is this smoke and mirrors to watch out for. this interpersonal dance of irregularity and wonder. knot muddling aches in the stomach as though i am trying to untangle wires. i have a lot of energy to spare, and while most of it is focused on work matters, i would like to spend the rest of it with people who compliment my life goals, not compete by thwarting me into a constant flux of worry, assessments of 'what are we', and inaccessibility.

i am walking on coals.

to tend to yourself you have to mend what's on the inside. that includes the final words. the final message. maybe you never got to send it. maybe you never got to say it. i have fought long and hard with myself and my final message to the one who broke my heart stays on the tip of my tongue. so here i am, writing it out, and hoping it is the end of.

>>>>

long gone are my emotions towards you. my withdraw was painful and long. as i'm sure you've figured out by now when i love i, love. in all its encompassing. and i needed to find that love again. for myself. love that doesn't hurt, abuse, emotionally sting then roll over and play dead. your love was so wrong, and so violent. you have yourself to figure out and your words no longer hold any dearness to me.  i do not care to wonder about what was any longer. i was, and i still am. i'm alive and i'm living, and that's about as much as i can take day to day. anything and anyone that doesn't serve to inspire, love, support, and be in my life needs to have no place in my life.

you said it best, maybe with good intentions, maybe to rid of me finally. "let's just call it what it is, not working. and move on"

i didn't understand why you would extend an olive branch only to break it from under me as i was trying to mend. i didn't understand why you told me you were over me yet your actions said otherwise. i didn't understand why you told me you loved me but your actions said otherwise. see the pattern? you never matched. you were never on the same page with yourself. and i held on to the idea that we could start where we left off. except, we left off with your insecurities that disrupted my behavior. we left off with you hurting me. so how could we start off better? i loved you. i am at my best in love. you did not care to this love.

you are at your worst. daily. my love was not for you. we are not right for each other. you did enough damage. tend to yourself now. you shouldn't have to hurt that much. 

i crave the longest night
grazing of the knife in the deep.
to cut? to win? to what road of indulgence begins.
i'm not together, just yet.
the splitting of tongues -
to love and hate?
the loudest of mars can't hold me

letter to my future love

how much of me is ever enough.
has my mother dressed me ready for offering,
to carry like the last of hope.

i grow restless in mold, but i would rather deteriorate

green ivy eyes;
mine - i image to quench a riot,
instead they blow with chestnut simmer, and limbs of lovers burn.
roots take to scissors -
each hair strand latches to
the back.
we say our parting goodbyes.

from knives to spin delicate design,
marks on my skin drip with steps, these veins like traveler's guides
and left behind gashes i dangle to show off charms.

to love me,
kiss this hurt.

to you;
what will be left to fasten. i am the smallest of
women. the loudest of minds.
take my adventure loosely by the hand,
not tight enough to break, not a soft chime..
we will build homes from lucidity, the warmth of foundation
i will weave. to wear gentler tones, even when the mood is
on empty, and the clocks' hands crushing sanity

there is no predictability to loving whole.
i barely belong to logic, but a firm heart won't
have to scold. merely whisper love
on trails of my body.
and i will bend enough to
mend it,

for i promised mother i'd be the
bride she can adorn the
kitchen with.

me to a T

Neptune Conjunct Ascendant

The conjunction of Neptune to the Ascendant shows that you are very sensitive and perhaps psychic. Your grip on the real world is loose; you need to grasp it more firmly.

You are so physically sensitive to the injustices you observe in society that they can easily make you ill. Because your environment has such a powerful effect, you should try to make some contribution to relieve your anxieties about allowing these negative conditions to exist.

You are sympathetic toward the oppressed, understanding of the emotionally disturbed, and forgiving to those who seem guiltless in their transgressions against society.

You easily become distraught over conditions you are powerless to do anything about, and your feelings of guilt and failure can make you withdraw into a world that is safe from responsibility.

You should associate with people who have their feet on the ground to compensate for your aimless wandering temperament. There is a great need for your sympathetic understanding, and you do not have the right to turn down anyone who extends a hand for help.

and then...

sometimes, collapsing and falling apart is all i have to keep me strong

my notebook hurdles through the mountains and i climb with a fever of a story to tell.

a white landscape is frozen in the surrounding. she is fog, and she is a haunted soul.

there's a crow at the bottom of my cup. coffee marks the spot and leaves behind a tarot reading. by death, transformation will come at heaps right when she lets goes.

sparks: impatient, crude, dangerously feeling out the design of anatomy on a stranger i can see myself falling in love with. i don't know him. my hands don't know any better, but i'm ready to reach out and let be. i'm ready to greet his pulse with a falsetto key. piano recitals and the stage is empty for us to fill our desires. i want him so i can remember i am wanted. selfish scarlet painted on my wrist. he is mine. he is mine. mine, mine? but i won't belong to anyone.

i don't know anything, something, everything? i am all of it.

i'm watering a plant. or a planet. do you ever stop and breathe in someones vitality and yearn for their fullness, their body of work of life? i'm still watering a plant. i'm over-watering it. it's going to die, i think.

the night i took my E pill

from splinters to silk.
his name is soft.

vigorous, with a conviction to kill.
charming, but a copy to read off a script.

not once have i introduced him into air.
i lock his name. to oxygen it takes, and this is how you fall.
he is nothing but a memory of fury.
curled into imagination.
my legs are a spider’s weak survival.

ambition to regain strength;
hopelessly i do. and i will crawl out.

in the meantime - distress is an aftertaste of bourbon gulps.
only during sleep do i reconcile with the self.
(i long to patch up skin parts to try his knife cuts all over again)
but morning is a mistress that battles minutes of yesterday
and heart palpitations start again.

Reasons you should not drink and smoke

(the crazies are on full swing. read with caution. as with all)

well my mind is nice and revengeful tonight. oh spiteful. i hate everything and it's eating at my flesh. how decadent. when will it stop. when will i stop. my swings of fine to psychotic has me running to the edge of the balcony to gain some strength and gasp for air...though i know it can't hold me for very long. control me.... i wish it had the power to. so i light up. i light up and i light up some more until i am flat, and on the floor with my head towards the moon looking for forgiveness, for a savior. i am sorry. i am not well. i am trying. i taste floral on the tongue, cotton candy and i am 8 years old again. what is this taste? sugar cubes dance in my mouth. springing right and left, leaving behind sprinkles of dew. i close my eyes and right next to me is a man i want to cover every inch of. he has no face, but i can fill one on him. i just have to grab my crayons. i'll give him a purple face. amethyst. he will be precious. oh we will fall in love and he will mend me. or maybe not. my body is filling with water and my thoughts are spilling. i am laying in a filth of my own pollution. floating, through the city on a death trip - somehow this feels like home. home is where you make it. oh i forgot, i'm not quite there yet. we are strangers these roads. no matter how many times i walk - no matter how many times i get lost - i never quite remember where i'm supposed to go and how i got there in the first place.

i am going to light up some more. and more....and then some more until i light myself.

Customer service was a bitch today.

+ I can lay in a corner for days and not be awake. In these 4 walls I am occupied. My body somehow molds out of shape and into whatever form the brain takes and sometimes I find myself to be a beautiful expensive chandelier, or a rotten couch with cigarette stains. It doesn't quite matter which one. Both are flawed, but have their place. I sip my tea and look as dainty as my mother wishes, but it never quite matches my interior - ragged, scarred, metal bits, and leftover lovers infiltrating scar tissue. It's okay though nobody has to know. That is until they get heavy with ambitions and all the oceans come crashing down.

+ Waves are slicing through my lungs. Right on schedule love. You have come down exactly when I felt you would. The sun is berating through my curtains, red thick - resembling blood clots, firing away at my retina. Too much, too bright, too risky. And I wish I could erase the sky only to leave it panicking. Black, distant, and comfortably in tune with me.