Pain & Progress: Day 4

Exercise:  4.82km Bike ride & yoga

First, sleep in.  IT’S THE WEEKEND!

Second, head winds are the work of the devil.  The heavy rain that started half way through made me want to curl up in a little ball and DIE.  The pooch, however, thought it was all wonderful and spent 5 minutes rolling around in the mud at the golf course.  At least someone enjoyed themselves.

Third, YOGA IS PAINFUL!  This is the first time I’ve done the whole routine, and I can feel how un-stretchy my muscles are.  Though I do think the people on the video are actually freaks that have no bones so I shouldn’t compare myself to them.  It was actually quite relaxing despite the pain, and it should be good to improve my muscle strength and flexibility.

Quit update: Well, at lunchtime I still hadn’t had a smoke.  Hmm.  Wondering if that’s because I slept until 10am?  Definitely smoked a lot less today, and not JUST because I was too sore.  Still no side effects as far as I can see from the meds, and if anything I am sleeping slightly BETTER than before. That really isn’t much of an achievement though.  Insomnia sucks.

Dream Diary: I had trouble falling asleep last night.  When I did, I dreamt about going to a bar with my twitter friends.  The bar had the same name as the one we attend for twitter gatherings, but looked NOTHING like it, being very dark and dingy.  The staff were extremely unfriendly, and when I asked for a Corona they gave me a ‘Corona Zero’. The girl standing next to me explained it had a straw which was lined with Cocaine and looked like a cocktail.  It tasted like a fruit tingle and I drank three in a row to no effect.  Perhaps dream-me is immune to Cocaine?

When next I approached the bar, and asked for a Corona, the girl (who looked like a vampire.  Or a drug addict.  Hard to tell the difference) served me some kind of non-alcoholic flavoured water.  Sigh.  Dream me was getting quite angry and said “Look, just give me a beer!”.  She pulled a Corona out of the fridge and proceeded to pour it into another bottle, which had cigarette butts in the bottom of it… EWWW! I said “Look, don’t fucking worry about it, I’ll ask the other bar girl”, and the next thing I knew I was being approached by bouncers and asked to leave.  Actually, to “get the fuck out” if I remember correctly.  Then they picked me up and launched me out the door, which was fine because I did a commando roll and landed facing them giving them the finger.

None of my friends appeared to care that I was thrown out and just carried on drinking inside.  Hmpf. The rest of the dream was a bit vague, but I do recall ending up at a rave, on my own, which was directly across from the bar I had been kicked out of.  So THERE.  My dream friends should have come with me because it was AWESOME.  That’s what they get for being arseholes.

 

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Pain & Progress: Day 3

Exercise: 11 laps & 6.25km Bike ride

Still woke up in an average amount of pain this morning.  WHOEVER TOLD ME THIS WOULD GET BETTER LIED!  Was not looking forward to swimming in the afternoon AT ALL. When I walked through the office door at work I immediately started sneezing.  Allergic to work you say? I think so too.  It proceeded to get worse until I felt like clawing my face off with a hammer.

Despite this I was determined to go for a swim, and upon asking Twitter (who make all my important decisions) the general consensus was that a swim would make me feel better and help my allergies.  Personally, I think they just wanted to see me suffer.

Despite feeling like I had man-flu, my swim actually went quite well.  I managed to do the first two laps back to back and completed 11 laps having only a minute or so break between them.  Then I realized my bag was at the other end of the pool, so I did a 12th lap to get back there.  I KNOW.  It’s like I’m starting to enjoy the pain.  My arms were so sore afterwards I considered taping my hands to the steering wheel to drive home.

After I had been home for an hour or so, resting my weary muscles, I put on my socks and shoes (to the excited barks of my pooch) and took him out for a ride.  I could feel the muscles in my legs, but overall it was a nice ride through a sprinkling of rain.  I went the long way, which turned out to be 6.26km which took around 40 minutes.  The pooch couldn’t keep up to my pace, which means I am fitter than my dog.  WIN.

Side note : I bought a pair of pants to exercise in, and they make my arse looks HUGE.  Is this suppose to motivate me?

Quit Update: Pretty sure I smoked more than yesterday, but less than the day before.  Two steps forward one step back?  Actually, it’s more like 1 step forward, half a step back.  Whatever. I’m not sure, but I am due to up the dosage of Champix today so hopefully that will help.  Come on meds, I am relying on you!

Dream Diary: SEX DREAMS FTW!

I don’t have a strong recollection of all the details, but I was at someone’s house where there were clothes lines (complete with washing) everywhere.  THEN I HAD SEX IN A SHOWER WITH SOMEONE I DON’T EVEN KNOW, though in my dream it appears I knew him rather *cough* intimately.  After we were… finished, the water from the shower turned into drops of blood.  Then I woke up.  It was both awesome and terrifying.


Pain & Progress: Day 2

Exercise: 4.12km Bike ride & Yoga (or lack thereof)

I woke up this morning with muscles aching in places I didn’t even know I had muscles.  Whoever is making me do this needs to be hung, drawn and quartered.  Oh wait.  I’m doing this to myself aren’t I?

After a miserable day of work I was actually quite looking forward to getting on the bike.  I know, I’m shocked too.  I quickly changed my mind as I realized all those muscles I found yesterday had not recovered.  It huuurrrttttsssss! I did manage to do 4.12km in 25.57mins with the pooch in tow, stopping once to chase the naughty dog as he ran over to greener pastures with two golden retrievers.  Naughty pooch!

I got home covered in sweat but relieved I had met my goal for the day.  Then I realized I still had to do yoga.  Turns out that I don’t feel comfortable contorting my body in front of my housemate, who happened to be home for the evening, so I decided to skip it. It’s not as much fun with clothes on anyway.

Quit update: I actually didn’t feel like a smoke on the drive to work, which is when I’d usually spark up my first cancer stick.  I smoked 3 half-cigarettes before lunch time, which is half the number I’d usually have.  Not sure if the meds are kicking in, or if my arms are just too sore to life the smoke to my lips.  Either way, WIN!

Dream Diary: I had an awful night of sleep, and woke up this morning with a vague recollection of finding cheap plane tickets to Japan but never actually going there.  Also, someone ate my housemate’s cat.  If dreams do come true, I really hope it’s only the first bit.


Pain & Progress: Day 1

 

What doesn’t kill you will make you wish you were dead.

Exercise: 500m swim, bike ride (note to self: must measure ride).

I planned to get up and go for a swim before work at zero dark thirty… But accidentally set my alarm for PM instead of AM and was lucky to wake up in time to drag my tired arse to work.  Perhaps my subconscious was doing me a favour?  If so, I heart you subconscious!

Coach demanded insisted encouraged me to instead go after work.  My goal was to do 10 laps, having a breather between if necessary.  I really thought I’d have to stop halfway, and picked an outside lane for fear of drowning.

The good news? I made my 10 laps! I thought I had managed well until I got out of the pool and my body felt like dead weight.  Whose idea was this anyway?  It was TORTURE!  I had better see some benefits or else I’ll go back to the good old days where I’d get in my car to drive across the street.

After I could finally lift my arms again I drove home and sat down.  Big mistake.  Getting up again was REALLY HARD.  I was thinking about skipping the ride and spending some quality time with my couch, but the pooch had other ideas.  With his mournful looks and insistent barking at my shoes he motivated me to get on the bike and take him for a ride. One word: PAIN!

Quit Update: I’m on day two of a medication called ‘Champix’ which has a high success rate for helping people quit.  It’s supposed to suppress the urge to smoke, so I have chosen Friday the 15th October as my quit date.

It apparently has some side effects such as mood changes, nausea, insomnia and bizarre dreams.  Since I already suffer from most of those, I haven’t noticed any changes so far.

Still smoking as normal, for now.  Hopefully the meds will kick in soon and I’ll start to slow down.

Dream Diary: One of the side effects of the stop smoking meds is bizarre dreams.  Since I already HAVE bizarre dreams, you know, when I actually manage to fall asleep (insomnia sucks) I thought I’d keep track of them here so YOU can tell me if they get stranger.  Sharing is caring.

Last night’s dream featured badly cooked steak, spiders, war games and mutilated genitalia.

I was eating at a restaurant with friends, and I lifted my steak up with my fork to show them how BADLY it was cooked and a giant evil hairy spider ran out from underneath it.  A fucking SPIDER! I fled, of course.  It appears Arachnophobia is just as strong in dreams.

In the next sequence, I was playing war games when I killed someone with a flashlight.  I ran back to get his gun, and found it was an oversized butter knife (this thing was huge) that shot real bullets.  Awesome.  Someone needs to make those.

After we’d killed all of the other team, we were sitting around chatting when one of my team mates starting talking about how he had mutilated his penis.  He appeared to be trying to make the girl next to him throw up.  He said “Here, I’ll show you!” and proceeded to undo his fly… revealing a pair of lacy black women’s underwear.  Then I woke up.  So I didn’t get to see the mutilated penis.  I am both thankful and disappointed, but mostly the first thing.

My dreams are VIVID ya’ll.

 


Welcome to my world of pain. Or progress. Hopefully both.

I have discovered lately that despite life flinging feces at me like a monkey in a zoo, I actually WANT to be alive.  So, I’ve decided to take control of the few things in my life!

First and foremost, I am going to quit smoking.  As I am well aware that I tend to be completely fucking insane a little unstable when I do so, I’ve consulted my doctor and am on medication to help with the process.  Hopefully this will prevent lawsuits and/or stabbings.

One of the side effects of this particular medication is bizarre dreams.  Since I already have bizarre dreams, I’m going to keep track of them here and you can tell me if they get progressively stranger.  Thanks in advance.

Secondly, I have started an exercise routine.  I already ride my bike every afternoon with my pooch, but really want to do more to get fit, toned and healthy.  I have a hot sexy supportive coach who has helped me design a program, and is going to ride me hard help me stay motivated.

The plan: Swimming laps on Mon/Wed/Fri before work, Yoga on Tues/Thurs/Sat evenings, and continue to ride each afternoon.  I have a feeling this will hurt.

I am going to attempt to update daily on my progress. This way not only will I have a record of my failures achievements, but you can read all about it.  Or just skip those particular posts and go look at lolcats and porn.  Not at the same time though, because that’s just weird.  I’m not judging you, I swear.


On pregnancy and abortion Part 2. Still not funny, but less likely to make you cry.

You know when you leave your blog for some time without updating it… Then you attempt to carry on with it but you just can’t find a logical way to follow on from your last post?

I’m there.  My blog has been sitting, neglected, like a <insert humorous simile here>.

Now I come to update you all on the intricate, wet, raffia-like threads that weave the underwater basket of my life, and I find myself not knowing where to start.

So why not start where I left off? You can find my last post here.  If you’re too lazy to click on that let me sum it up.  I found out I was pregnant, and had just booked in to have the pregnancy terminated.

In the end I did go through with the abortion.  So I am now un-pregnant.  The clinic I went to had wonderful compassionate staff, and my best friend came with me for support.  In quiet reflection on the way home from what was  the most difficult day of my life, I realised I had made the right choice, for ME.  I held onto that thought in the weeks that followed, despite sometimes feeling emotionally unstable, empty and exhausted, having faith that I would heal with time.

I still have my moments where I wonder what it would have been like if I’d continued with the pregnancy, and I know New Years will be a very difficult time for me.  I know I’ll be thinking ‘what if’.  But I will deal with that when the time comes.  Or repress it.  One of those two things.

Thank you all for sharing your views and comments – and most of all thank you to those who showed me nothing but love and support, without judgement.  It’s amazing how kind words from people I’ve never met can really make a difference.  You all rock.

In further news, I’m on the ‘quit smoking’ bandwagon (again), have started an exercise routine, and I’ve applied to two different Universities to study next year.  More on that next time!


On pregnancy and abortion. No, this post isn’t funny.

WARNING:  If you were looking for something humorous, I’d suggest you go somewhere else now.  Perhaps visit The Bloggess.  She always makes me laugh.  But right after that come back and read my other posts.  Don’t make me get all jealous and stabby.

A few weeks ago I was stuffing food into my mouth and joking with my friends that I was late (not for work, or for the bus – I’m talking about my period) and that soon I might be eating for two.  I guess I wasn’t worried because there was such a slim chance of me getting pregnant.

“Knowing MY luck, I will be” I said rolling my eyes – It is common knowledge that I have some seriously bad luck when it comes to uninvited random life changing events.

Then after another week, I bought the pregnancy test.  Still joking about it, but wanting to be sure to be sure.  You know, like when you don’t think you’ve turned the iron off so you go back to check, but of COURSE you switched it off, and really deep down you knew that and… See my point?

And so I peed on a stick and about 5 minutes later I went back to make sure it was negative.  It wasn’t.  Shock ensued.

I knew whose it was immediately.  After all, I can do basic math (seriously).  He and I didn’t speak anymore, after we’d seen each other over just one long weekend and it hadn’t worked out due to *cough* irreconcilable differences of opinion.  Polite, aren’t I?

Over the course of the next couple of weeks I deliberated.  I let my thoughts wrestle between those of having a baby vs. how I would feel if I had the pregnancy terminated.  I still don’t know why I avoid using the word “abortion” when it’s legal and I’m pro-choice.  Oh wait, I just used it didn’t I? Moving on.

I spoke to the father, his preference being that if I was going to keep it that we “tried again”, or that I went ahead with the termination.  He really didn’t want to have a child to someone he isn’t in a caring relationship with.  Who does, I thought? He did he would do the right thing whatever I decided.

Intellectually I knew the right choice for me was to NOT have the baby.  Emotionally, my thoughts danced to the steady ticking of my biological clock, being 28 and actually wanting to have children.

I know now isn’t the right time.  I know when I do have children I want a supportive partner to share it with.  I am overjoyed by the fact that this means I CAN have children when I thought I couldn’t, even if I don’t have one now.

I knew I needed to make the right choice for ME – and my head tells me that not having the baby is the most sensible decision.  I try to hold onto that thought, even though right in this moment I sit here writing this with tears in my eyes, thinking it will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

I have already booked a procedure to terminate the pregnancy.  Have an abortion.  Get un-pregnant.

I had to have an ultrasound today.  Sitting in the waiting room, the black plastic toilet sign figures mocked me and my bursting bladder.  Good thing they called me in on time, or I’d have made a mess all over their already terminally distasteful multi-coloured carpet.

I wish she had asked me if I wanted to watch while she did the scan.  That I had the forethought and strength to say “turn off the screen”.

I wish she had not told me I’d be due on the first of January.  A New Year baby.

I wish she’d asked before pointing to the flicker on the black and white screen that was my baby’s heart beating.

I wish she hadn’t let me hear the soft *lub-dub lub-dub* of the baby’s heart beat, clear and echoing in that small, sterile room.

I wish I couldn’t still hear it ringing in my ears now.