✯Sincerely, Me✯

☯LivingWithMyself☯
2016-01-21 21:39:40 (UTC)

I Need A Doctor


Dear Reader,


My body is turning against me.


For about a week or so my teeth on the right side of my jaw have been killing me.
Because of overthinking and being paranoid... I honestly believed that they were in the process of falling out... or that I had broke one...
I don't know. x_x


And this week, something a lot more serious has been going on.
My right breast started hurting a few nights ago.
I sleep on my stomach, and I was trying to get comfortable.
It's common for women with a large chest to have complications lying on their stomach, but I've never had trouble... but I was that night.
I managed to fall asleep, and push it out of my mind.

But then, the next day.. It started hurting more.
It began feeling heavier.
It hurt to press it.
I would feel it, and the tissue felt firmer.

Imagine pressing a balloon blown up just a little.
It's all squishy and soft. You can press deeply with little resistance.
Now imagine filling the balloon more...
It becomes firm and tight. You fingers can't press as deeply.

I couldn't sleep on my stomach, so I slept on my side that night.
The next morning it felt normal again, but it was short lived.
It started hurting again, and by night time It was undoubtedly swollen.

I slept on my side again that night.
When I woke up the yesterday morning, it was normal again.
It stayed normal throughout the day.
But then when I tried sleeping on my stomach last night,
It would hurt, so I had to sleep on my side again.

This morning it was normalish.
But it still kinda hurts when I press it.


It scares me shitless.
I don't know what to do.
Even if it doesn't swell or hurt anymore after today,
Why did it to begin with?
The reason for it can't be good.


Honestly, I wish I could have told my grandmother the first day I noticed it.
I had a few opportunities... but I didn't tell her.
For a few reasons.

If you want to know why it's kinda hard to tell my family really anything... read my entry: "How To Be Me - In My House"


It's fucked up...
I shouldn't feel like I can't tell her when something's wrong with my body.
Over the summer,
there was a brief period where I lost feeling in my clit...
I thought it would never return.
I was miserable for days...
not just because I thought I couldn't get off anymore..
But because I wanted to tell someone... I wanted to ask for help.
But I couldn't do it....


I never realized how much I hate having a female body until a few days ago when I was talking about the issue with my breast with my best friend.


It's my body, and I accept that.. but I hate what it's capable of doing.


I hate that it has periods.
I hate that it can get pregnant.
I hate that my breasts can produce milk.
I hate that when I have sex for the first time,
it's going to be so painful...
I hate that when I'm older, I'm going to have to go through menopause.


Puberty was so hard for me...
I mean it's hard for everyone..
But my grandmother was the one who had to lead me through it.

And she made me feel so ashamed and ugly.
She never made me feel like I was going through was normal...
She made it the most awkward and stressful.

Example:
I didn't understand the purposes of wearing a bra.
She sprung it on me randomly.
There was no preparation.
She just took me to the bathroom and told me to put the new bra on.

First of all, it was lacy.
So, it was itchy as hell.
I remember scratching and thinking:
"Am I really going to have to wear this everyday?"

And it upset me...
I was just a kid... and one random day, I was told I'd have to wear something so uncomfortable every single day for the rest of my life....
(Didn't know there were different kinds)


Instead of trying to comfort me...
Trying to be understanding..


She just instantly went from 0 to 100..
Started yelling at me, and her face was red and twisted.
She got so unnecessarily angry...

She said something along the lines of:
"YOU HAVE TO WEAR IT. EVERY WOMAN HAS TO WEAR ONE. GET OVER IT. I HAVE TO WEAR ONE, SEE?" and she lifted her shirt and showed me hers, and whipped it back down with that same red-faced angry expression.


I started crying, and she just yelled at me to leave and go away.
So I did.

When I got my period for the first time...
I knew what it was because my mother's mom, my nanna, told me about it prior.
My nanna asked me if I had started yet...
And I told her I didn't know what it was..
And she explained it.. and that I'd use a pad or tampon whenever I started. She smiled and was so gentle about it.
She was comforting.


Whenever it happened, I went straight to the nurse at school,
And she called my grandma.

I was nervous about it.
Nervous because I knew what it was going to be like...

I tried to be mature and strong about it.

She came and picked me up.
The car ride home was awkward.
She acted really.. inconvenienced.
She didn't smile. She didn't really talk to me much.
She showed me how to put a pad in my underwear...
She showed me once, and then told me to do it myself.

I tried to smile and make light of the situation...


But she was just cold as ice.

When I had my underwear fixed, I was dismissed.
I kept wondering if I were.. doing something wrong...


After that she yelled at me for every spot found on my underwear....
(Where the pad had shifted, or when I started and I didn't know.)

I don't identify with femininity.
I'm way more comfortable with masculinity.
I'm at a point in my life where I can finally dress the way I want,
but I still have to fight.


I remember growing up....

All I ever heard was:

"Be more ladylike."
"Boys won't like you if...."
"You need to be more girly

It was damaging to my self esteem.


They treated me like a doll, and made me feel defective and ugly if I tried to resist. My aunt R and her were the 2 biggest sources of my shame.

They made growing up female... a horrible experience.


I have my "official" coming out story written out,
and I'll definitely post it at some point.
I feel like it gives a little more insight into what it was like.

I'm not sure what's wrong with my body...
And I will eventually have to ask for help.

The frustrating thing is, if I go see a doctor, she'll have to pay out of pocket since my insurance expired when I turned 19.

And despite everything, I really hate that someone else has to pay for me.


Even if it does stop.. it doesn't mean it won't happen again..
It doesn't mean it's okay.

Medical issues trigger the my panic disorder like crazy.
I immediately go to an "I'm going to die soon" mentality.

Sincerely,
Eminem




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