What goes up....

One of the things I always say is what goes up must come down, AND DOWN. BANG CRASH STUMBLE.

In a heap on the floor, lent against the cupboard in my kitchen hair all around my face so if anyone does look in my window as they pass they can't see my face, tears streaming down my face reaching my sleeve up every so often to brush them away and before my hand is even back by my side my face is streaming again.

This is where I found myself last weekend on my kitchen floor crying my heart out, I don't cry like this very often. I felt like I'd make a mistake, there's a fucking good reason for why I'm as guarded as I'm, it's so easy to lie and tell everyone your fine and that everything is ok. I'm always fine, I always survive, I always cope. What bullshit. I want someone to see all of my faults and not be scared I never intentionally aim to hurt anyone but it's something I seem to be very capable of doing. People thinking that because I'm not telling them I'm hurting I'm lying, I just don't want you to know, there is absolutely nothing you can do to make me feel any better and it will make you feel awful.

On the whole I am fine and I'm doing ok, I've got exciting new oppourtunities which providing I have a brain hidden somewhere in here I'll be fine. I have got this nervous, excited feeling about my course and its sitting right in the pit of my tummy! It almost feels like I'm going to throw up. I only remember having this feeling once before, when I sat my final exam for my diploma in 2003. That feels like a life time ago and definately a different girl.

That's another thing I never call myself a woman, I don't know why.

I'm so anxious that I'm not going to do well and I'm going to fall back in to a dark place, get depressed and slip, I can't afford to slip. I live my life pretty simply since I've had depression, until now no one new has come in to my life, it's my protection. Everyone has been with me through the worst and seen it, I was a mess, I think saturday was what made me feel a little low. When I was depressed I found it really hard to be in a crowded place, the only way I could do it was if I was in the back of the room so that I could see everyone, I can't stand all the noise and chatter and loads of people being behind me watching my moves making instant judgements about something they know nothing about. IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY VOICE, so then at least I could be happy in the fact that everyoen is fucking looking at me. I know this isn't right, and apart from saturday I can't remember the last time I felt like that, because I've changed something I'm feeling a little bit vonerable. I don't do that.

I want someone to reassure me it'll all be okay, but no one can I've just got to see and find out if it will be.

I was talking to somebody today about my operation, when I was working in France I was made to go for a routine medical, the night before I had finally managed to get it on with a bloke that I really liked and I'd meet him the first day we arrived there in December and I went for my medical in Feb. The doctor I had my medical with couldn't tell me wether their was something wrong with my appendix or my tube. So he said I needed to go and have an ultrasound to see if I had a sist as this would show up on that. So I think it was two days later me and one of the blokes I worked with took the long trip down the mountain to the ultrasound place, I had my scan done and he said my womanly bits all looked fine but that I should go to the hospital and have my bloods taken. Thank god the bloke who was with me was fluent in French, with me knowing little to none. So we went to the hospital he explained the situation and I got taken in to a room and had my bloods taken and a drip put in to me. I hadn't eaten for about two days, They said we had to wait in this room for 1-2 hours for the results. GREAT. So we started talking and then after about two minutes i needed a wee so I looked outside the door found a nurse and had to mime that i needed a wee!! lol. We got to the point after a few minutes. Then I came back to my room. Another ten minutes went past and a surgeon came in and pulled back my covers and lifted my top up and felt my belly and said in french that he needed to operate now and it couldn't wait. The surgeon saw me at about 5pm and at 9pm I was on the operating table. What a drama I was asking the guy who was with me to phone the hospital get them to find my documents and ring my mum, I also told him to pass on his number to give to my mum as i didnt have a french phone and no credit so no one could ring me. My mum rang as I was washing myself just before going downstairs, I said hello down the phone as she asked me if I was ok, I brust out crying, then she said your not are you, she then said Ill come over I'll get the next flight I can, to which I said no, no don't be silly by the time you get here it will all be done, but I really wanted my mum. I woke up from after the operation at about midnight and a nurse came over spoke French to me and waddled off, I was in fair amount of pain and confused but I was doing ok. After a bit of time they took me up to ward and I woke everyone!! OOPS! The day after I pretty much slept and I kept asking if I could have some water but I wasnt allowed any until I farted I have absolutely no idea why, mel and tom came in that day to see me, they didn't stay very long but at last I had someone talking english to me and I finally got my mobile!! It was in a bag int he cupboard and it kept ringing and I couldn't get to it. Then while tom was there the hotel manager matt rang him so I spoke to him and said I was ok but could he let my mum know and then I really wanted a drink of water but they won't let me until I fart! He gave me his mobile number and said he would send someone down the next day with a few of my things so I could have my own clothes and stuff, how embarishing why on earth did I tell him that. Silly me, but it's ok it meant that when I text him saying that I needed sanitary towels i didn't care so much. That's the other thing that was horrible after having my operation I started my period two weeks early the little buggar. I think I was in 5 days after the operation, the surgeon came around to see me the day after and said I was very lucky as most of my appendix was infected and could have burst what amazed me was that when I went for my medical I wasn't in any pain with it! I can't remember which day it was, but my room mate maria came down to see me and I cried a little when i saw her walk in! Bless her she sat on my bed and gave me a hug and then I had to ask her to move because her sitting there was hurting but it was lovely. That week was a really hard week but I was allowed out of the hospital early me and the doctor made a deal, one night my drip came out and leaked and I had to go and find the nurse who thought I'd wet muyself and started to take my clothes off to which I cried and started screaming at her that it was my drip, but screaming english to a french woman really doesn't help matters, so i had to mime that I hadn't pissed myself my drip had leaked, so she decided to play with it and try and get it back in, it really hurt and didnt work so in the end she just took it out! YAY. That was a horrible week and I never want to have an operation abroad, not knowing the lingo ever again, not unless someone who does stays with me the WHOLE time. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have no idea where this is going and I could carry on forever but there are people chatting to me and text messages flying about I need some me time. Next time i blog everything else is going off!!!