It has been a month since I have written.
My brain and my life have been in complete auto-pilot since the "awarding" of my degree.
I say "awarding" because I did not walk, and I have not received my fabulous piece of paper yet that pertains to any form of commitment.
With facing all that adversity and hardship of my academic career, I figured that the accomplishment of a degree would have been, only of what I could have presumed to be trumpets sounding and angels descending, yet it was nothing of the sort.
At this point it feels like I am in this weird life to job purgatory.
Caught in the middle of being given a chance, and taking a risk.
They never told you how hard it would be.
But I am remaining positive and hoping for the best.
Once I stop showering all together; that's when we should be concerned.
My health has been pretty consistent minus the night-time stomach cramps that leave my body in peril. I take enough sleeping medication to knock out a medium-size kangaroo, and I can only assume that is the best route to take for the time being. Or at least until the latest round of medical bills have been completely paid off, and I can then seek medical counsel.
I am finally healthy enough to leave the nest. I am finally becoming a real-life adult at 25. I like to joke with my mother and tell her that I am never leaving, but it is time for Lane and I to live away from the security.
I just have worries that my health may not stay in good shape and that I will revert back.
I can not live in fear, so I must go.
I worry far too often about the future. I need a plan. Without a plan my life feels at a stand still.
Anyways.
My scar fear did come true.
That thing is permanent and prominent.
I hate it so much.
And it hurts.
It's so strange. It has a burning feeling every once in a while.
I am like a c-section Harry Potter.
I wonder who my Voldemort is.
All I know is this person has to go.
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I did want to mention these.... interesting occurrences.
I saw this new trend of husbands and wives making a "Go Fund Me" account for IVF.
Personally, I kind of felt a sense of bitterness towards it.
I mean, it is a very expensive procedure, I understand that.
And I understand that most people who have the ability to have children shouldn't, and the ones that can't should.
But I just couldn't help but feel a sense of distaste.
Everyone does things different, I guess.
But personally, I could never ask someone to help me pay to have a baby.
Strangers donating money so maybe I could have a child, that I could potentially screw up because who knows if I could be a good parent.
It seemed so odd to ask for money for that, like buying a pair of boobs, or funding a trip to Asia.
Maybe, if a family member wanted to help, maybe.
But having a baby isn't a need, it is a want.
I might be completely out of line, and maybe I am just being too critical.
But 1 in 8 people deal with some kind of form of infertility...so should we all make a Go Fund Me for the next surgery, or the next shot, or the next appointment, or my potential "Mommy Tuck" because the last surgery screwed up my body.
