Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Oh My Fuck, IUD

Allow me to start out by saying that I thought I was very prepared for this IUD.
I had listened to the Stuff Mom Never Told You podcast on IUDs more than once (I think twice, but possibly a third time). I discussed it with my best friend who had gotten one a few months before. I read information posted by doctors to prepare myself for the visit. I was warned. I was warned of the pain that I would experience, but I was not ready. Though, had I read the very accurate descriptions on Cosmo, I probably would have been more nervous and made it worse. Anywho...

Wow, so the nurse called in a pill called Arthrotec to take the night before. The pill is designed to soften the cervix, as well as provide some pain relief. My appointment wasn't until 11, and the internet advised me to take it 3-4 hours before the appointment. I took it at 5. I felt like 5 was a good time, as it was not quite a full nights sleep before 11, but longer than the 3-4 hours the internet told me to do, a nice compromise...I thought. Most blogs as well as the podcast suggested taking an over the counter pain medication before the visit, so in addition to the Athrotec, I took a decently dosed Lortab before my appointment--half on the way to the office and the other half as soon as I walked in the room. Having taken both the Athrotec and the Lortab before my appointment, I felt pretty prepared.

I go back to the room and they hand me the paper sheet. I get completely undressed before I remember that this isn't a full exam so I can keep my shirt on, yay. I also take this time to examine the room around me....eahhhh don't look at the tools. I'm taking a seat about the time as the nurse and the doctor walk in, still feeling pretty confident as I lay back (sadly, as much effort as I put in to scooting down far enough, she still had to tell me to scoot down more--one day I will get it right the first time!)

Alas, the process begins. She first opens my vaginal canal with the speculum (if you don't know what that is, click the link). That's not bad, pretty routine, though my nonexistent sex life caused it to be a little more uncomfortable than usual, but definitely not painful. Next she uses these giant iodine* soaked q-tips to sterilize my cervix, weird feeling, but whatever. Then comes the giant, long, metal tenaculum (click the link) she uses to stabilize my cervix. This feels somewhat like a pinch, and because so many women described it as a pinch, I thought the worst was past me. The worst was not past. At this point she attempts to measure the depth of my cervix with a tool called a sound. That was much more of an intense pinch + menstrual (or bowel if you're a fella reading this) cramp + the sensation of someone jabbing a dull pencil in your abdomen. Not cool, but if the IUD feels like that, I think I can handle another few seconds of it. Well. My cervix is not having it, so at this point she has to get another tool, I believe it was a type of forcep because it was definitely something new. This is where it got pretty unbearable. I definitely cried out when this happened and when she inserted the IUD, but it happened and it was over...NOT. The damned thing came out as soon as she got it in (due to my tight cervix and probably my flailing around).

At some point this whole process upsets my bowels. I don't know what is bowel cramp and what is cervical cramp. Now I have the new pain to deal with, as well as the worry of shitting myself during the process. It's great.

I am 100% over it. I am whimpering to the doctor and nurse that I don't want to do it, I can't do it. She tells me that she's going to let me rest for a few minutes then decide, since she's already loosened my cervix enough for insertion, it would be easier to get it over with today, than go through the whole process again another day. In my mind I am thinking, "oh hell no, I am done with this shit, I'll keep taking the pill until the conservatives take it away." The nurse offers to get my mom, and I'm like "yes please *whimpering noises*." A few seconds later my mom comes back and starts fanning me, which is pretty nice since I was pouring sweat. I actually took my shirt off because I was so hot, and had to take my glasses off because my glasses were fogging up. Yeah, it was pretty bad. I lay there for about five minutes and the doctor comes back with an ultrasound tech so she can watch whats happening with her miniature ultra sound machine (which was quite cute by the way, it helped distract me for a moment). I decide I'm ready to give it one more go.

I make my mom hold my hand. Then stop fanning me so she can hold both my hands. Yeah, I was being a wiener, but everyone was nice about it. She cranks me open again, inserts one of the cervix stabilizing tools (I cry out at this point, followed by a whimper). Next she inserts the insertion tube (another cry out followed by whimpering), and inserts the IUD with the tech's verification that it is in place.

This is when I start throwing up. Only 1% of patients throw up during or after the procedure, go me, finally a part of the one percent.... And I throw up a lot, it goes on for a few minutes. Thankfully the nurse was nice enough to get me a soda, and the doctor wet a napkin, which my mom used to wipe my face for about five minutes. The nurse and the doctor congratulated me on powering through, and left me to lay there as long as I needed to...which was approximately ten minutes.

One could say the worst was over once it was in, but there is definitely some intense cramping afterwards. A lot of people liken it to period cramps, so if you cramp badly, you're in for a treat.

From this point forward my descriptions are a pretty accurate representation of what I go through during a normal period, so if you don't have bad ones, this may not apply to you.

I laid curled up in the passengers seat for the infinitely lasting ride home (approximately 40 minutes) and upon arrival I stumbled in to my room to die. My amazing mother soon brought me an electric heating pad and a rice sock she had warmed in the microwave. The sock went on my abdomen and the heating pad when on my back. She had also given my three ibuprofen on the way home. At this point you would think I would be doped up enough to not feel any pain. Wrong again.

The Lizzard and I took a two hour nap before we were (I was) motivated by hunger to make my way to the living room. I was still cramping pretty bad at this point and brought my heating pads with me to the couch (the house of pain couch for my snapchat friends). I ate some spicy soup, drank like two ounces of chamomile tea before Chole the pup drank some, and continued to pout as I watched Space Brothers with Spencer. Around two hours after I got up I took some Naproxen Sodium and about an hour later my cramping subsided (that shit is magic, truly). Around 8 I felt well enough to move around and ride with my brother to Jack's (still not comfortable enough to drive though).

Now here I am, chilling out writing this blog post on my experience. Was it terrible? Yes. Will I do it again in 5 years? Hell yes. Not long after the cramping started to subside, I saw some posts by my friends with children, and I unconsciously started to rub my abdomen over the IUD in gratitude.

So, even though my experience was crazy painful, you shouldn't let it scare you into not doing it. Yes, it may be terrible while it's happening, but its going to last you five years. If you have terrible periods just think to your self that, yes, it is pretty bad, but no worse than your worst period, and it will save you from many periods to come.

The End.
Or Rather,
To Be Continued.


*may not have been iodine, but that is my best guess.



Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Fuckboys: The Observations of a Modern Female Through Her Interactions with the Opposing Gender

Today I will be discussing fuckboys, and how not to be one. Unless, of course, your goal is to be one, then go right on ahead with what you're doing.

Allow me to start of with a little background on myself and my life experiences thus far. I am currently a 25 year old woman. I am slightly taller than the average American female, and weigh somewhere between 135 and 150 pounds (roughly size 6-8). I have curves in all the right places as well as a nice layer of softness over the rest of my body. I am in no way fit nor skinny, and I don't do it for everyone, but I don't have any issues finding people who appreciate what I have to offer.
Now, merely being a woman comes with its own set of challenges when interacting with would-be suitors, when you throw in some curves and makeup knowledge, you find yourself dragged into some very irritating (as well as entertaining) conversations.
Like most women that I know, I like to give men a chance. If they have the courage to introduce themselves to me and make an effort to get to know me, I feel it is only right to give them a chance. Most of these chances are quickly wasted with fuckboy bullshit. Bullshit that runs most women off. Bullshit that makes us think you all are insensitive idiots. Bullshit that is going to run off an awesome woman.
Also, I am a stripper, so I'm somewhat of an expert on the modern day fuckboy.
I will first offer you three examples of one particular common fuckboy scenario that I have encountered in the last three days....by three different men. I've known each of these men for various amounts of time and have a different level of acquaintances with each. The scenario is "can I have a picture?"

Example one is a text conversation that went as follow
FB1: It is. so hear I am wide awake lol
FB1: Wyd
FB1: Send me a pic 😉
Me: Well I'm sitting in the dark at the stake n shake drive through
FB1: Why lol
FB1: Sounds Sketchy lol
Me: I was hungry lol
FB1: lol I still ain't got a pic lol
FB1: And bring me some food
Me: Lol way too far
FB1: What about a sexy pic???😎😎
FB1: Since you won't bring me food

Okay. So. Let me start out with the fact that I live in Tampa Florida and this dude lives in St. Clair County Alabama. His suggestion that I bring him food is annoying as hell. I realize he thinks he's flirting. No. Read the room. Even if its a chatroom, you should be able to gauge the other person's interest or lack there of.
Second, don't use some outrageous scenario to try to guilt (even if it's jokingly) someone into sending you sexy pictures, or any pictures for that matter.
Third, if a person ignores your first request, don't make yourself a bigger fuckboy and request a second time.
Forth, "wyd," "wrud," "sup," those are not conversation starters that portray any level of real interest or intelligence. Stop.
Fifth, if you are constantly double or triple texting someone, you need to accept that they are not interested, and leave them alone.

Example number two is another text conversation I had, though this was over snapchat, so I will have to summarize the story rather than give an exact play by play.
So I had been out the night before, got rather drunk and was texting some friends. After I got home I was having a hard time getting to bed. It was around seven when one of the friends I had been chatting with the night before messaged me to see how I was doing. I told him I was hungover and felt like shit. This man....this man...knowing that I felt like shit, had the audacity and lack of consideration to ask me for a nude. I did not reply. So a few minutes later he sends me another text something along the lines of "I guess not" followed the the "guess" emoji and the eye roll emoji. Being his friend I was considerate enough to calmly explain that I was hungover and felt like shit, therefor I was in no mood to take or send nudes. He graciously accepted my answer, which was commendable, but not enough for me to look past what happened.

Okay. Well. I could probably rant about this for a while. This man was so focused on his fucking cock that he completely ignored how I was feeling. That is the definition of fuckboy. A man who is out to please himself and himself alone. Not only did he completely disregard my state of being or obvious lack of desire, he actually got petty with me for ignoring such ridiculous advances. If you don't want to come off as a fuckboy,  put in some effort to think about the desires and needs of the person you're talking to.

Example number three is a conversation I had with a fellow I had met at the club the night before.
FB3:We are going to have a very entertaining evening
FB3: Fireworks by the bay
Me: Ahhh I shall think about it
FB3: Ohhh lol
FB3: Lol
FB3 If you have reservations, it's ok I can do my own thing
FB3: I don't usually ask people I don't know well out
FB3: Your call though, you seem actually cool 😎
Me: Let me see what my family is doing and I'll let you know!
FB3: Oh I like that. I'm good with whatever. I'm a family friendly too...
Me: Lol good to know
*hours later*
FB3: Good Afternoon
FB3: Guess you're doing the family thing, there is a good firework display[ay off channel site tonight if you are interested.
Me: Hey! Sorry I've been asleep, I didn't fall asleep until 2ish (pm)
FB3: Awww
Me: I know we're eating tonight, honestly I haven't checked since I woke up.
FB3: Send a picture, please
FB3: Ok, I can do fireworks then I'll be working at a club later
FB3: Eating would be good..
FB3: Fireworks in 5 mins off the bay

So pretty similar to situation number one. The conversation is full of double/triple texts. There are two attempts at guilt. There is my obvious avoidance of the picture. I really don't know what else I can add, that I haven't already stated.

This is why so many women are savage and will tear you apart without a second thought, because of instances like these. In all of these situations I tried to politely ignore their requests, and these men would not accept reality. I don't like being mean, and I try not to resort to that, but encounters like these make it very hard to be civil.
Also, if you have to ask for a nude, there is a high chance she doesn't want to send it. And maybe some of you do that, but choose to ask anyway because you know a lot of women will send you one anyway because they don't want to deal with telling you no. If you're that person, you're trash and a perpetuator of Rape Culture. End of story.

So in summary I will leave you with some advice on how to avoiding being a fuckboy.
Don't have ridiculous requests.
Actually show interest in the person your talking to.
Don't add "lol" to every fucking text
Stop asking for pictures! Seriously, if we want to send one, we will get around to it.
Don't try to make us feel bad when we don't send the pictures you request.
Stop with the constant multiple texting.
Read the room, understand and accept when someone is not interested.
Think about what the other person may want before you start making requests.
Accept denial graciously and now when to back off.

I'm sure I left so much out and this post it riddled with grammatical errors (though the text conversations are word for word, so their errors are their own). I will probably revisit this topic at a later date, so stay tuned *sunglasses emoji*

I will once again leave you with some links, to help you better spot a fuckboy, and maybe do some self evaluation.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/melanie-berliet/2016/04/27-hilarious-ways-to-explain-exactly-what-a-fuckboy-is/

http://www.thedatereport.com/dating/advice/how-to-spot-a-fuckboy/

Monday, July 3, 2017

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda: The Art of Getting Over Rejection by First Removing Yourself From the Hypothetical and Focusing on the Reality of What Is

Long title, I know, but I wanted it to summarize the topic completely.
Also, hi, this is, what, my third or fourth attempt at blogging? Maybe it will last this time. Either way, it's helping me busy myself, and will hopefully help some heartbroken folks out there.

I should preface this by stating that I am the breakup senpai. I have done this so many times, that I have mastered the art.

So this is going to summarize some of the rules I abide by the first few weeks after a breakup. I'm not going to say I am always perfect at following them, like most people, I give in to temptation from time to time. However, these are, in my opinion, very healthy boundaries to set for yourself.

Fist step: Delete, Delete, Delete. Deleting a new ex from your social media is not immature (though some people will try to paint it as such). Deleting is an act of self-love and self-preservation. Right now your main focus should be on yourself and what you need to heal. Removing your new ex from your social media outlets will help prevent you from lurking their page and doing more harm to your emotional state. You don't need to see how they are doing. You don't need to see what their doing. Most people on the deciding side of a break up ride a sort of emotional high for the first week or so. They are reveling in their new found freedom. You don't need to see this. It will not make you happy. If their social media presence is public, block them. If they ask, tell them the truth, that you don't trust yourself not to keep tabs on is posts.
Delete, Delete, Delete includes their number. It's so hard in the beginning to refrain from texting them. You want to know why. Why did they do this to you? How could they do this to you? Chances are they've already told you, and will get irritated with you constantly asking. What happens next is, they either get angry with you and hurt your feelings, ignore you (which will hurt your feelings), or tell you a lie so you'll get off their case. None of these things are desirable.
Now, when I say delete their number, I mean delete their number. Delete their cell/house/work phone numbers. Delete their Apple ID. Delete them from your recent calls and texts. Leave no trace of their number in your phone. I've even blocked the number before I deleted it, to play it safe.
Also, I understand that when it comes to pictures of the two of you, you may need some more time to bring yourself to delete those, but don't let yourself hang on to those for more than a week or so. They aren't doing you any good.

Second step: Stop fantasizing about what could have been. What should have been. And what would have been, had you not broken up. These are fantasies, you live in reality. You need to accept what has happened and adjust the course of your life accordingly. Delete that dream wedding Pinterest board. Delete birthday reminders in your phone. Don't dream up ways you can cross you can cross their path. This is not your reality. This is not who you are. You are strong. You do not pine after people who do not want you. Do you want to be with someone who doesn't want you? No. I understand, you want them to want to be with you, but, once again, this is not your reality. Instead of centering your thoughts around them, focus on yourself. Plan a night with friends--your friends, not your mutual friends (this goes under avoiding the urge to creep, creeping never makes you happy. Also, don't keep asking your mutual friends what they are up to, thats another form of creeping). Go to a restaurant you like. Learn a new hobby. Take a yoga class. Have a spa day (you can always go to cosmetology/esthiology/massage schools if you feel a spa day is out of your budget. Do anything healthy and productive to help you focus on yourself.
Another good outlet is Tinder. I'm definitely not suggesting you should jump head first into a new relationship or use sex as a bandaid. However, knowing other people find you attractive and interesting is very important. After a breakup we tend to see ourselves in a way that isn't accurate, a little flirting goes a long way towards the self-esteem.

I think that's all I have for today. These things are definitely a good start on your journey of self-love and healing.
I will leave you with a link that offers plenty of alternatives to texting your ex. The list isn't perfect, it has some lurk suggestions, just ignore those.

http://elitedaily.com/women/not-text-54-things-instead-texting/911851/


I hope these help some of you out! If there are any grammatical or spelling errors, I apologize, I don't feel like proofreading.