Journey to the Good Place.

Know yourself. Love yourself.

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Separation Anxiety Part 2

I. Want. To. Have. Sex.

This sucks. 2 weeks without and counting. Looks like I’ve still got another week left, too. Fucking Mike has turned me into a god-damned nympho sex addict. I went 19 years without being remotely interested in having sex. Then I spent two years largely unexcited by it. Now all of a sudden going two weeks without makes me feel like I’m gonna die. It certainly doesn’t help to spend so much time around something as delicious looking as him.

And as I have these thoughts, I find myself wondering for the 100th time: What the hell is going to happen to me when he’s gone?


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Separation anxiety Part 1

Rubix cube is unsolvable. Turns out John switched the stickers. Now I have to go get a new one and solve it or I will never rest.

Mike made me super angry yesterday. He started showing me pictures of the house he’ll be living in when he gets to Virginia. It was so easy to picture myself living there with him. As soon as I remembered that I would be living in Texas instead I got super depressed. Now it’s getting to the point that once a day I grip onto him as hard as I can and bawl my brains out at the thought of being separated from him. It also reminded me how much I miss having real friends. The kind of friends that would buy a house and set aside a room for you months before you’re actually able to move in and would even buy a bed for you. Mike is a lucky little shit to have such friends.

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Mid-deployment vacation

To-Do List:

  • Study for advancement test.
  • Study for CLEP
  • Get bike chain
  • Clean room
  • Make tax appointment
  • Order refill on meds
  • Get water for plants
  • Take care of bank paperwork
  • Ask Dad about Joe’s stuff
  • E-mail lawyer
  • Take care of leave paperwork
  • Bake muffins
  • Find thin shirts and leg warmers for leave
  • Look for plane tickets
  • Talk to Grandma
  • Research property in San Antonio
  • Solve rubix cube

I’m going a little crazy with the online shopping trying to put together some decent outfits to go meet Mike’s parents. I’ve never put so much importance on what a complete stranger thinks of me before. I haven’t spent all that much money yet. I’ve spent most of my tiem lookng for stuff. Seriously, how hard is it to find legwarmers?

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Medical Self-Study

What I’ve learned so far about life with Herpes (as a girl, cause guys are different):

  • If you’ve ever experienced anything more painful than than a herpes outbreak, you can consider yourself an epic badass. Apparently the pain drops off after the first few outbreaks, but for now I’m in hell.
  • It’s not something you can keep to yourself. If you can’t talk to someone about what you’re going through, you will lose you fucking mind.
  • If you tell more than one person, expect people to surprise you. You’ll expect some people to be understanding about it and they’ll end up breaking your heart, and you’ll expect others to judge you or freak out and they’ll end up being totally there for you.
  • Ocean water is a god-send. I know it sounds like a terrible idea with the whole salt-in-an-open-wound line of thought, and I won’t lie and say it doesn’t burn like a motherfucker at first, but after the first few minutes it calms down and it’ll jump-start the healing process to such a degree that it makes it way beyond worth that little bit of extra dicomfort.
  • Underwear is the devil, avoid it at all costs. Pants too if you can get away with it. Peeing is also the devil but unforunately you can’t avoid that unless you know something I don’t. After a couple days of absolute agony I did some Yahoo! Answers research and found a suggestion to fill a large bowl with water and sitting in it while you pee, like, in the bottom of your shower or something. Yeah, at first the idea of peeing in a bowl was pretty fucking humiliating, but it only takes a few days of going to the bathroom and finding yourself blacking out with pain and attempting to climb the walls trying to get away from your own lady-parts before words like “dignity” and “shame” kind of lose some of their meaning. It doesn’t take long before you’ll do just about anything to avoid the pain. I went 3 whole days without drinking anything (probably risked deadly dehydration) before I read that thing about soaking in warm water while you pee. A little humiliation probably saved my life.
  • Maybe it’s just that I’m extra resiliant, or maybe it’s that my doctor’s an ass, but I ended up having to take twice as much medication as he told me to to have any results. So, you know, common sense: take what he told you to, but if it’s not working don’t be hard headed, do what you have to do.
  • Pain releivers are your best friend, don’t be skimpy with them.
  • Cleaning regimen: every couple hours you should soak your lady-bits in warm water. This has a pain releiving affect in addition to cleaning away the virus so that it won’t keep replicating itself instead of dying. Once you finish soaking (and don’t be afraid to do that for as long as you damn well please), make sure you let your lady-bits COMPLETELY dry out. A moist environment keeps the virus going.
  • The news that you’ve contracted an incurable disease doesn’t hit you all at once. It comes in tiny segments.
  • During an outbreak any moment that you feel normal becomes BEYOND precious.
  • It’s been a week since I found out and I still haven’t been able to say the “H-word” out loud.

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STDs Ruin Everyone’s Fun

Today’s post comes in the form of a copy of an e-mail I wrote to my Momsy. It’s possible that you don’t want to read about this subject, but I don’t care. This is my blog and I am writing about my journey and this is a part of that journey. Also, I think the most damaging part of most STDs isn’t the symptoms, it’s the social stigma that goes with them. That stigma keeps a lot of people from being able to vent or seek emotional support during a very difficult and painful time. So, it’s not much, but if my writing this stupid little blog post can make just a few people a little less judgemental toward people with STDs and a little more understanding and willing to listen, then I will feel like I really fucking accomplished something beautiful. So here goes:

Sooo…I went to the doctor today. It turns out that your lovely daughter just got her first (and hopefully last) STD. HOORAY!!!!

Just goes to show what a rebel I am, challenging the stereotype that you have to be gay or a slut to get an STD. Turns out you can also be a naive girl who’s only ever kissed 3 people in her whole life.

Now, before you get all mad at Mike, I’m actually about 80% sure I gave it to him. The doctor said that it can chill in your system for quite some time and only show it’s ugly face after an intense bout of stress. Well, I have been EXTREMELY stressed for the last month or so and then, of course, I just recently got over MONO/Jaundice which definately stressed out my body. And then there’s the fact that Mike didn’t start noticing anything until two days after I did, so…pretty sure this was my bad…some sort of thoughtful parting gift from my ex-husband the so-called virgin. Mike is trying REALLY hard to get me to blame him, though. However, I REFUSE!!!

Um, but yeah, so that’s what I was freaking out about recently. I didn’t want to say anything to you until I knew for sure. Didn’t want to freak you out for no reason. But I’m glad I at least told you that SOMETHING was wrong cause I really appreciated the very mom-like words of comfort.

Oh! I just realized I haven’t told you what I have! Well, in case you wanted to know (or even if you didn’t >_< ) Mike and I are now the proud co-owners of a very nice Herpes virus. You know, one of the ones that ISN’T curable? The one that stays with you for your entire life? I believe I should get an over-acheivement award for this one. What’s that you say mother? You think I sound sarcastic? Yes, well, that’s how I deal with trajedy and destruction: sarcasm. Learned it from my father. Which reminds me: I need to call him and thank him for this fantastically awful luck he gave me.

I’ll call you soon to discuss things with you more (and more importantly to talk to you about more pleasant things)…once I manage to do a little bit of processing on this colossal load that got dropped on my shoulders today…also when my lady areas don’t hurt quite so excruciatingly bad. For now, I’ll just set your mind at ease that Mike is fulfilling his (at this point daily and never ending) duty of waiting on me hand and foot and constantly doing anything in his poser to make me feel better and to keep my spirits high. I don’t know what I would be doing right now if he wasn’t here. Probably much less laughing and witty sarcasm and a little more searching for loose razor blades. So rest assured momsy dear! I am in very good hands and I am handling my lot with grace and tres-amusant-ness and all will be well in the end. Someday I will write a brilliant book about all this and make millions.

Love Always

Your darling daughter.