Ripping Me a New One: The Triumph of the Asshole or A Study In Erin's Absence

Today I Hate: My period. Why? Because the post I was supposed to post is now being posted however many days after I originally said I was going to post it.
Today I Love: Posting the goddamn post. Why? Oh, just read the goddamn post.

  Infected.
  Anal.
  Fissure.

  I want you to take a moment to say that out loud to yourself. I don't care where you are, at work, in bed, on public transport, just do it.

  ............................

  Did you feel it?
  "Infected anal fissure" is something that sounds nearly as horrifying coming out of your mouth as it feels trying to shit when you have one. And I should know because for the last eight months I've had a number of them.
  What started out as my usual hemorrhoid issue acting up quickly turned into a thrombosed hemorrhoid (when a blood clot forms within a hemorrhoid. Much more fun to say aloud than to experience) and took a turn for the even worse until I was stuck lying on one side or the other all day every day with the exception of a short walk if my body allowed and trips to the kitchen to heat up food. And the bathroom, of course.

  For eight months.

  There were (and still are) other health problems I was trying to juggle at the same time making things even more difficult but to keep some of my privacy and to prevent this post from becoming an ill written (ha ha) novella, I will stick to one thing and that thing is my asshole.
  Your asshole ripping open is something most people seem to try not to think about which is understandable but when it happens to you you find it is impossible to think of anything but(t) and before you know it you find yourself writing on a blog about it. Imagine not being able to walk up a hill or stairs without feeling it reopening, bit by bit, with every step. Or not being able to go anywhere or hang out with friends because you have to do a sitz bath every single time you go to the bathroom because even pee irritates it and it is impossible to carry around the amount of ointments you have to apply afterwards. Or reaching down to apply one of those ointments to feel not the skin of a human but that of a reptile and finding yourself wondering if David Icke really is right about lizard people (a true horror). Or not being able to sit or stand or wear pants. And let us not forget the fun surprise you get every time you go to the bathroom: whether you are going to have A) explosive diarrhea (which also irritates/creates anal fissures and hemorrhoids) B) a poop too hard to pass without ripping the fissures open again C) bleeding, either from the fissure, internal and/or external hemorrhoids, or something else or D) All of the above!!!!!! :D
  Anal fissures--especially infected ones--are really beyond words is all I'm trying to get across. Being able to go to the bathroom and just poop is something I think most everyone takes for granted.
  I tried a round of antibiotics which did improve the state of my butthole some and help with that purple-black reptilian skin, but every five to seven days, without a doubt, no matter what I did, my butt would rip me a new one and I would find myself grabbing onto the roll of toilet paper trying not to scream as I desperately tried to poop.
  Then, as if all that wasn't bad enough, one day early last month I was having some extreme discomfort in my belly and looked in the mirror to find I resembled a woman four months into pregnancy (which I most definitely was not). After a clean ultrasound I was beginning to consider sticking a pin in my stomach to relieve the "I'm going to explode" feeling so I could eat and move again.
  No one could find out why I wasn't healing up and after a month and a half of being able to eat no more than two very small meals a day and dropping weight I don't have to drop, I walked into my doctor's office (after yet another round of antibiotics which helped a little more though with the same end result) and told her I think I have an ulcer.
  I came to this conclusion after reading up on symptoms because while most applied one really stuck out to me: the unexplained back pain that some patients with ulcers experience and that perfectly described my unexplained back pain. Putting all that together with the two plus two of my life my lovely, fantastic doctor didn't even blink when I told her.
  I have been on PPIs (stomach acid suppressants) for four days now and have already experienced improvements in all areas. I can't decide which is best: being able to go for miles long walks again, traverse hills, work my way up to eating real meals, not having reptile skin, being able to skip a sitz bath here and there, start up ballet again, sit for any amount of time, actually looking forward to pooping (!), feeling so much better that I FORGOT to put on an ointment last night, run again (even if only for a few seconds), wear pants and underwear again for realistic going-out amounts of time, or that I can write a run-on sentence THIS LONG about all the symptoms I have that have improved!

  It feels truly magical.

  And right now, though it's still a ways away, I am so looking forward to being able to walk the four miles up and down hills to the grocery store deli area where I most love to sit and write, especially letters to my pen pal (whom I desperately need to catch up with).

  I know what I will be doing this summer. ;)

  I suppose you might find it weird or gross that I'm talking about this stuff online or at all for that matter and that's okay because sometime during all this mess I was sitting hunched over on the toilet with my head in my hands in agonizing pain when something in the recycling caught my eye. On the packaging from one of my hemorrhoid wipes it said, "You are not alone" (followed by a registered trademark symbol because nothing says "you are not alone" like a trademark symbol) and gave the statistics of adults in the U.S. who get hemorrhoids.
  Dear God, I remember thinking, we can talk about shoving anything and everything up our asses for sex but we can't talk about hemorrhoids?! That's what's gross?!! There is something severely wrong with my culture.

Today I Hate: The heat.
Today I Love: ORGANIZING AND CLEANING AGAIN, OH MY GOD.

Hello everyone! Just here to say I have a post I plan on putting up tomorrow (I know, it's been awhile!) but am unable to do so now because it needs to be edited and I simply cannot do that yet for a number of reasons.
So, tomorrow.
'Bye for now,
-The Gloom

Enough is Indeed Enough.

Today I Hate: Panic Attacks. Why? Because they suck.
Today I Love: Tea and not getting sick. Why? Because I am absolutely, no way in hell, getting sick.

  Haven't done any internet stuff in awhile for a number of reasons, mostly because I find the internet to be a disgusting cesspool of stupid people and gross things (also present in the real world but far worse online). I have been working on stuff but am reluctant to post most of it due to the aforementioned cesspool of whatever. I have mostly been journal writing and comic planning but I feel more and more like the internet is not the place for me. It is not this great, wonderful place where you can share ideas, improve, and "find your people" like everyone seems to think. Unless of course you are one of the f*cking insane, torch wielding majority or are willing to bend to the will of the f*cking insane, torch wielding majority when they start blocking/deleting your accounts and silencing you when they see something they don't agree with even though they accept everyone and everything and I'm pretty certain that is exactly what would happen here if I actually posted any of the things I really want to write about.

  So I will probably post stuff again sometime but for now I am just keeping myself to myself because I have really had enough of people, both online and in the real world.

Enough is enough.

-Me.

Brief Comic Update

  More people have been asking me lately about my comic and how it is coming along so I wanted to post an update there rather than elsewhere. It is here.

Sitzing and Sipping

Today I (Still) Hate: My broken piece of shit body.
Today I love: Bunny, who I can hug on the toilet when I'm scared to shit.

  At 5:30 this morning I found myself up to my belly in a tub of warm water holding my exceptionally large skull & crossbones cup of black tea and balancing a book on my knees at the same time.
Shortly before this I was sitting on the toilet for the second or third time Waiting to Shit, a basic bodily function that has become a disgustingly cruel and frightening game. My arms were crossed over my stuffed rabbit, holding him close to my chest while I took deep breaths and tried to visualize pooping "smoothly and naturally" as I had been instructed. For once in my life I have found a situation in which visualization (sometimes) has an actual effect on whatever is going on. Unfortunately, as I discovered yesterday, when the poop hits the pain spot and the pain starts to scream no amount of picturing a shit sliding out of my ass painlessly is actually going to make the shit slide out of my ass painlessly. Hence, the stuffed animal.
  About that time I realized I had left my morning cup of tea in my room where it was now either a pleasantly drinkable temperature or unappealingly lukewarm. I decided to cut all attempts at shitting short (I did manage some but still with bleeding) and raced to my room to fetch the tea while I waited for the warm water coming out of the bath tap to realize it is supposed to be warm water (which can take anywhere from one to infinite minutes). I returned with said cup of tea and placed it on the floor near where I would be sitting repeating to myself that I had better not knock that over, I had better not knock that over. I didn't--and was quite proud of myself--and this was about when I plunked my butt in the tub of too hot water (I can never get a consistent or appropriate temperature due to my stupidly cold limbs) and finally got to enjoy my morning cup of tea with a sinking heart while Bunny looked on with that happy look he always wears on his face on when I feel like killing myself.
  As I sipped my tea and read my crappy book (any book so long as it is not my story) I tried very hard not to think about the rest of the day as my mornings have become the best part of them.

Sitz Bath Adventure

  I tried a sitz bath today, a sort of last ditch effort after getting some really bad news from my doctor's office today. For those of you who don't know, a sitz bath is basically a warm bath that you can put epsom salts or essential oils into but I am just opting for the warm water due to my wrecked pelvis.
  Anyhoo, because I don't have a bathtub and since I'm really tiny my doctors told me I could use the basin I do my hand washing in instead. So, like the mindless dolt I am I took the tub and, out of habit, filled it up to where I do when I wash my clothes. When I was done with that I realized it was in the shower and I couldn't lift it out and so, with some help from the wall and my legs, I got it over the ledge and onto the towel I had set on the floor. As I went to lower myself into it my brain began screaming a warning at me.
  "ERIN! ERIN! ERIN! ERIN!" it offered helpfully.
  I ignored it and lowered myself in further. The water rose up to my belly.
  "THERE IS FAR TOO MUCH WATER IN THIS TUB."
  I let myself drop to the bottom of the tub and water gushed out over the edge.
  It's okay, I told myself. I'm on a towel.
  My brain sat quietly in the background.
  But then it occurred to me that I still had to lean back. I did so and with every millimeter a far greater amount of water than that flowed out. This was about when 6th grade science class--quite literally--came flooding back to me; something involving a fish tank, some water , and a toy boat. After a short time of this I began to feel extremely stupid but I justified my actions by not realizing the amount of mass my barely-there ass has.
  "Alright, Brain," I gave in, got out, re-lifted the basin and, with some help from my legs and the wall, I got it on the ledge and dumped some water out.
  I repeated this process once more until I was not flooding the bathroom.

  And that's it. No great climax I'm afraid (though I did remember to check the water level before I dumped it out so I won't overflow next time). I think there was going to be one but I've forgotten it as my sister's got me watching The Legend of Chima which is more mind numbing than any amount of side-lying (alone) could ever be. :)

Things that Can Only Be Said...

  My sister walked into my room yesterday to find me buried underneath her laptop finishing up some comic work.
  "Hey," I said to her, "Could you do me a huge favor and get me that USB? The one in the teacup,"
  We both smiled as the weirdness of what I'd just said soaked in.
  "Things that can only be said in my room."
  She looked around for the USB but didn't spot it.
  "The one with the horse in it," I added helpfully.
  "It's in the teacup with the horse in it," she laughed. "Things that can only be said in your room."

A Rude Awakening

Today I Hate: Panic attacks. Why? T_T
Today I Love: Being able to go for walks again, tea, Gatorade, and being able to work on my comic once more. Why? Panic attacks.

  This morning I found myself scribbling away in my journal while on the toilet after a bout of ass-ripping diarrhea caused by one of the worst panic attacks I've had in a while. I've been really stressed and have been having mild attacks lately and while something happened this morning that I knew would turn my stomach I was not prepared for said ass-ripping and my body trembling so much I couldn't move among other fun things. Managed to eat some of breakfast but it was an attack worthy of an anti-anxiety which I took. Lunch went down better and I am thanking god for gatorade.

  Feeling better now but I think I speak for both myself and my hemorrhoids when I say fuck this shit.

Jumping Off of Bridges

Today I Hate: Most everything in my life.
Today I Love: The people I work with, who care about me (ironically).

  People don't change. They have the ability to but when given the choice they most likely will not or will become even shittier than they were before. That has been my experience. I desperately want to find people who want to be better, who inspire me, but this is very difficult when everyone is busy jumping off bridges because their friends are doing it.

  On a related note, I have a question that won't get out of my head:
   In not changing you have shown me that not only did you not care about me but that nothing I said to you mattered at all. My caring about you didn't matter.

  Does that mean we were never really friends?

Said Too Much

  There are a lot of stupid things I come across when looking at Helpful Hints to Improve Your Writing but there is one that has been popping up everywhere lately and it's really getting to me. It is that you are not to use the word "said" as in:

  "Blah, blah, blah," said so and so.

  At first this made sense to me because I thought they meant what my teacher taught my class in the second grade which was to not always use the word "said" in order to encourage us to both be more creative in our writing and to learn more words (good teacher). But what they actually mean is that you should quite literally never, Ever, EVER say the word "said".

  The more books I pick up (and read; some I just pick up and put back down again others I move to the side slightly) I've noticed that a lot of people are following this advice to the point where, as you get further into the book, you can actually feel them struggling to come up with more and more words for how to describe the noises that come out of someone's mouth and this, to me, is bad writing.

  It is all very well to exclaim something or mumble something, to ululate, to complain, to blubber, to laugh, to emit, ejaculate, articulate, verbalize, relate, retaliate, bellow, tell, utter, shout, wail, howl, yell, moan and groan, and scream and screech and whoop and shriek and cry
 
But
 
Sometimes people are just Saying Things and I think that needs to be Said.