The Softmore

Part 1 – Cori – time frame – 2000’s

It’s the year 2005 or 2006, the year you get your license. The month is ApriI. I think I was in 10th grade, driving a 1994 XL Fire Engine Red Chevy Blazer. I was not yet an experienced highway driver, so wherever I went, I went the back roads.

On this particular day it didn’t matter. The place I was going was all back roads. There was one way into town and one way out, and this was it. A Long, winding, curvy, strip of what felt like forever. Beautiful mansion like houses lined the road, and the smell, the sticky smell of the salt water clung to the hairs inside of my nose the way you would picture molecules and cells sticking together.

It was the same road I had traveled down many, many times throughout my youth with my parents to get to the Beach, but one of the first times I had driven it myself. And I wasn’t going to the Beach this time. I was going to a Women’s Health Clinic to be put on birth control, without my mother’s knowledge or consent. They had a little notebook, a journal, filled with “testimonials” from patients before us. Essentially, the ” Comment’s Section” of this particular Women’s health Clinic.

I’d brought my friend Leena with me for support, more of a celebratory support. Little did I know- I was going to need more than that, and a lot of it.

I peed in a little cup for what I believe now, was the first time I’d ever done so ( outside of when my mom would hold the cup for me at my annual physical with my pediatrician), sat back down in the waiting area with Leena, and began reading some journal entries.

After about 45 minutes, and a lot of whispering stares and side eyed glares, a woman opened her door and called out my name, ” Cori? Come on in.”

We spoke about the different types of birth control, my history ( which wasn’t much yet) and then she asked if I’d like for her to bring my support person in. That threw me way off, but I sort of chuckled it off and thought it’d give us a lot of laughing material for the ride home.

She opened her office door and called out, ” Leena, could you please come in and take a seat with us?” . A knot began g r o w i n g inside of my belly. My nerves were starting to catch up to me.

When my Best Friend entered the room, we locked eyes and nervously smiled at one another.

“What is going on?” I ask the, (lets call her “Doctor”) Doctor.

” Unfortunately Cori*, we can not give you a prescription of Birth Control today, but we can offer support-” Said Doctor, uneasily.

What?! What the hell do you mean??? What is wrong with me?? Is it an STD?! HERPES? HIV? AM I DYING?! – Were some of the first thoughts that went through my head, my best friend Leena, was thinking the same things. She was so afraid of what the next words would be, she visibly clenched her fists into the arms of the chair, on each side of her body.

” We can not give you a prescription for Birth Control today, because…. you are already Pregnant.”

Explosives going in all corners of my brain.

That’s. Not. Possible. ( not a statement taken lightly in such a situation).

I couldn’t imagine being PREGNANT!? I had just turned 16 years old.

NO!! This cannot be happening. I was t r y i n g to get AHEAD OF THIS!!

The first audible words out of my mouth were, ” Okay, Well… Soo what can you guys do for this? What can we do about this? I need to fix this and fast, and again, w i t h o u t my mother finding out…”

The only support offered to me by the lovely clinic, was a few brochures regarding adoption and teen pregnancy. They did not offer, provide, nor support a b o r t i o n.


When I walked out of the clinic, I took what felt like the first breath I had taken since Leena sat down in Doctor’s office with me.

My face stained in tears, I called my boyfriend Anthony.

When he answered, he already knew something was not right. See, usually I’d only call him over the 2-way Radio. So when the phone rang and he saw my name flash across the screen, his stomach bubbled.

On the ride home, I called my mom.

She could hardly understand the words coming out of my mouth, but she got the idea. ” Drop Leena off, and head home, I’ll be right over.”

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Cut to- It’s the second-to-maybe Third-to-Last Day of 10th Grade, June of 05/06, and I have an appointment scheduled for the following day. I’m sitting in Mrs. Lato’s Spanish class nauseous, a feeling I’d begun to get used to, and my teacher won’t let me go to the bathroom, a g a i n. I know my bathroom breaks were frequent, more frequent than normal- and they thought I was going to smoke cigarettes, ( something I did regularly in the school bathrooms). Over the last 3 months, my bathroom breaks had become even more frequent, and I was doing more than just s m o k i n g in the girls room.

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Even when I did go in there to smoke, I would throw up. E v e r y. s i n g l e. t i m e. I was SO frustrated. I had been trying to keep this secret for months, as one pregnant 10th grade teenager would do. It wasn’t that I couldn’t take the secret any longer, it was that I had to throw up, and did NOT want to do so in front of a room full of Juniors and Seniors, most of whom I was n o t friendly with.

I tried to cover all my bases. I asked if I could PLEASE run to the bathroom, THREE TIMES. In between my pleas, Mrs. Lato would throw in a wise remark. She thought it was funny. She wasn’t trying to be mean, no – she was just trying to get through her lesson. ” It’s the last week of school, cant you wait until the bell rings? Your not going to want to miss a thing in class today or tomorrow.”

“I’m not going to be here tomorrow or the next day. So May I Please run to the bathroom? It’s s e r i o u s. It’s a M e d i c a l condition. It’s a g i r l problem.”

Nothing. She ignored me each time.

I rose from my chair and exited the class room. Fuming. Actually, f u m i n g. This was the first time I felt my whole body heat up the way it did in response to my anger. I felt my skin turn flush. My neck, covered in blotches of red… embarrassment? Fear? No, Anger. Anger that looked like a bad allergic reaction.

I splashed my face with water, and looked at myself in the fun house like mirror that was mounted along the wall as you exited the bathroom. I wanted to wait for the bell to ring, but back then, the concept of time wasn’t what it is now. It lasted longer. One half hour felt more like One whole hour. Fifteen minutes was more like 45. So I waited for my face to cool down some, and I walked back to class.

Looking down at my Toes

Journey through the mind of our Mental Health Warrior’s and their Thoughts.

The first thought in a series of Thoughts, from the minds of our Mental Health Warrior’s, made into Poems.

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I spent half of my life wearing black on my toes and only black clothes -You’d have thought that maybe Death was a type of lifestyle, and one that I chose. With a ring in my nose I’d watch only Crime shows and listen to black crows. I’ve stuck straws up my nose and drank straight from the hose – and there was also a time I tried to make little girls’ bows, and design my own kinds of clothes – and although maybe nobody knows, My love, I tried to never oppose. I’ve lived where it snows and during a time where guys called ladies hos- and day after day, we continued to live, all while the things we love decompose. In the ground we are planted, and even still, nothing grows. Why couldn’t we grow the same way as a Rose? And Why when we’re pregnant, do they say our skin glows? The Baby is taking everything, except for your troubles and woes. So really, Truly, the answers nobody even knows. But we still continue on, alongside our friends and even our foes. Over and over, it’s just how it goes – and now my friends, this thought I will close. At the end of the day, some people think, ” This shit Really Blows”.

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The Truth, Mom

Blogger / Mental Health Advocate

Send me your thoughts, stories, poems & experiences. Let’s Travel the Road of Mental Health Healing Together.

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What to Expect when your having a ‘Bladder Function Test’

 Un-related to the World known and relied apon Series, ‘ What to Expect when your Expecting’. A new Series, Following women and moms in and out of various Doctors’ office’s, and not just to and from Labor and Delivery.

Urodynamic Testing

  Most urodynamic tests are to check how well your bladder can hold and empty urine.  Hense the name, “Bladder Function Test”. It sounds like exactly what it is. 

 In the days Leading up to this appointment, if you’ve gotten lucky enough to need one, you’ll be tracking your drinking habits, and your urination patterns, on a 10 paged, stapled together, “Journal”.

7 am - Drank 14 oz coffee - no leaking - no urgency - drinking fluids
740 am- Drank 3 oz water- 0 leaking- 0 urgency - drinking fluids
8am- peed - emptied bladder - 0 leaking - Urgency noted - urination w/out leakage w/ urgency
812am- peed - dripping - 1 leaking - 0 urgency - Jumping on trampoline, no urgency noted but slight leak 
10am- Drank 24oz water - no leaking no urgency - drinking fluids
1145am- Drank 30 oz Juice - no leaking no urgency- Drinking Fluids

Your journal will start to look like that of the example I made above. Once you’ve completed, you should have at least 3-6 full pages ( 3-4 whole days), of your drinking, and bathroom habits. Fun!!

 On the day of your appointment, 1 hour before arriving, your told to chug 32oz of water in a short time frame. Then, nothing more to drink for 1 hour. 

   First, your nurse will come in and make sure your ready to begin testing. They’ll hand you  2 mini dixie cups. In one, the smallest mouthful of water, and in the other 1, one time antibiotic treatment, known as Bactrim and 2 AZO urinary Tract Pain Relief pills that will 100% have you peeing shades of orange and yellow by nightfall. 

 Then, you’ll get undressed, hop up onto the table, lay back, SCOOT… scoot down a bit more, Scoot a little bit more, and finally, you’ll give em your best frog legs! 

  Once the nurse, and testing Doctor / NP come in and catheterize you, they’ll start by sticking sensors all over your crotch area, your butt cheeks, and some other below-the-waist areas that are unidentifyable just by touch. These sensors are used to pick up muscle and nerve contractions, or lack thereof. This test will confirm whether or not the bladder and pelvic floor muscles are coordinating correctly.

 

 

 

  Once you’ve got a dozen or so, very strategically placed sensors, and wires coming out of your hoo-hA and in sticking out from between your legs, ( or maybe at this point someone has found a better way of doing this), your NP will then tell you that the remainder of the testing, will be done standing up.  After you’ve, very strategically, and with the help of the extremely good looking male nurse, gotten off of the patient table, you’ll be asking to empty your bladder into this toilet type chair, as soon as the room is empty. From the hallway, the Dr., Nurse & or NP, will be watching a screen thats somehow attached to the chair toilet, measuring to see how well you empty your bladder and at which consistensy and pace in a natural setting.

 

  Now, step 1 of the testing is complete, and we’re on to the not so natural stuff.

  Your Doctor will then have you standing up again, and will begin fueling your bladder up with warm water, or Saline, stopping every so often to measure while you cough,  force a sneeze, and Bear down on that Bum like your not having a baby.  This may feel slightly dangerous to some, but they will reassure you that your in the best place for emergencies to happen.

   Fill, Cough, Cough, Cough, Bare Down, Stop. 

 During this 30-60 minute ordeal, you’ll be asked to tell your doctor when you first feel the sensation to have to urinate, when you feel as though you could hold your urine for 30 minutes, for 15 minutes, for 5 minutes, and lastly, when your bladder is so full that you absolutely can no longer hold it without actually peeing all over the place.

   Once you reach the latter, your to sit down on the toilet chair, and without pushing, or thinking or really doing much at all, let it all out. Pee, without peeing.  ( wellp I guess I could’ve held on for longer).

   You’d want to make sure to be completely sure about this decision. One woman said she never felt like she had to pee at all!!!  Only for a brief moment after the initial emptying of her bladder, did she feel the sensation or urge to have to pee again, thoughout the entire testing!!!

    Most women aren’t sure what to expect, what they should be feeling as their bladder unnaturally and increasingly fills with fluid at a not so normal rate.

  Out of the 10-15 women with a prolapsed organ that I spoke with regarding their appointments, only two of them were not having incontinence with prolapse, a rare occurance.

  Both patients were told by their Doctors that they needed a handful of tests to produce any type of answer. Bladder function testing, UItrasounds, a hysteroscopy. Both were looking for a problem, a kink in the urethra.  Who would’ve thought that not having incontinence could be a problem!?

  Urodynamic tests focus on how well your bladder can hold and empty urine, and whether or not your bladder is contracting when it is supposed to.  

  The testing takes roughly 1 hour start to finish and is generally pretty painless. The most uncomfortable part of the testing I think, is akwardly and precisely trying to stand up from the lying position with all the sensors taped and attached in between my legs, that or anything to do with the catheters. For some, it is the moment the catheter goes in and there is no relief until the moment it is removed, for others, pain or discomfort doesn’t start until the catheter is removed.

    Everyone has a different experience, a different body, different reactions, different feelings, a different tolerance, different Doctors, etc. So my experience will be different from yours, however I hope I helped ease the fear, or to just put your mind to rest by sharing. 

    Being a women can be scary. Being a mom is usually scary. But nothing is scarier than having to take care of yourself when you’ve forgotten to for so long. 

 

 

What to Expect when...
5/5

Thank you Love, for your time…

by: cel.mck #FmomB

I loved you the moment I met you, but I didn’t know what that would mean.

I loved you for a decade and had no idea the trouble that would bring.

I loved you even when I made you leave. I loved you even though you never came back. I loved you even though you MADE me stay away…. I loved you… or so you’d say.

You loved me when you called the cops, because i came around, you see, I thought you’d never dare be the one to burn me to the ground. I loved you when you lied to me, you’ve always fucking lied.

I loved you when I was just a girl, and you turning into man, you have to know how hard it was for me to understand. I wasn’t ready to be responsible. I didn’t even know how.

See no one ever taught me how to take care of myself, so when it was time I lost my mind, I spiraled off my shelf.

I’m broken , but Did I break you too? I didn’t know I had that power. See sometimes I think, that I came broken, or at least came to know it . See, I’m not sure if that’s really true, or if I could really try to remember when I Broke. What made me break. Could I map it out on a timeline ?

I’m trying to wrap my head around it – I’m trying really hard, because I need to know how long It’ll take to let go of the whole façade.

I’ve known you more than half of my life and more than half of that I’ve had to walk on egg shells- Don’t get me wrong, You were always a good chef, just never really learned how to properly clean up your mess. So on shells I’ve continued to step.

We use excuses, you use your lines, she knows one of us is the main reason that we lost so much of our time. One day she’ll make her own decisions, I sure hope she’ll make some improvisions. Not repeat my life like I did mine – I never believed mine, not even half the time.

This shit we did, it effected my whole life, who’d have thought it’d still be putting me through strife?

and when did I myself stop being a kid? I don’t remember what day it was, I don’t know what it was I did. What I did to stop being a kid, besides having myself my own little kid. I don’t know where it happened I don’t know why, All’s I do know is that time truly does fly. Where does it go, that time you ask? It follows you around, like the Ghost Of Christmas’ Past. I’ll end this here with this last thing, I know it’s gone, I know it happened, I know being a kid isn’t just something I imagined, I just don’t know the why’s or the how’s or the whens, I also don’t know how and when time ends. – “FmomB”

Cel

As I work on my book, I write peices here… food for my thought, as this writing stimulates the brain, and brings me back to where I need to remember.

    #time #kids #love #hate #passion #relationships #randomthoughts #memory #memories #remember #fmomb #truthmommy #friendships #life #lifequestions #wheredoestimego

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    The ‘no’ memories …

    Ever think of a memory… and while your thinking of it…. Your thinking, or saying out loud …, “ no, no, noopee…” ?

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    It can’t only be me.

    Are those the bad memories?? The ones our brains want us to forget altogether. The ones we do usually end up forgetting altogether .

    It’s like, even though it’s running through my head, maybe even … call it a flashback…. I do not want to think about it now or ever again.

    I never really thought of it that way.

    But thank you brain, for healing my heart ❣️

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      A thought for the day that I’m struggling with, that I’ve never looked at afar, from FmomB.. xO.

      She was trying to be cool like me, while I was trying to be cool like her.

      She was about the same age as I, maybe a year younger, but I believe she too is an Aries, maybe. Another free spirited, stubborn spit-fire ruled by Mars.

      She always looked beautiful and always Carried the prettiest hair. She lived in a mansion, and they had a house on the water… she had an in-ground pool and always the most trending stuff to wear to school. She kept good grades and all of the teachers and all of the students loved her. I wasn’t jealous, because she was my friend. I truly didn’t realize the impact we had on one another back then.

      I think we became friends either in gym class, a study, or detention… but we eventually started hanging out outside of school. I’d go over to her house where no one was home and we’d watch “ scary movie” and make prank calls on her home phone.

      We’d lounge on the sectional eating snacks, having girl talk and just talking crap. We wanted to make a burn book, I believe she actually already had. Eventually we’d go to my house and hang out in my room. We had sleepovers locked in there for hours drinking, smoking, febreezing.

      I introduced her to my friends and she came around a lot more. That was In high school.

      I don’t think I even realized it, or maybe I just don’t remember, but we really were Best Friends, for a long period of time. She brought me to her parties, and introduced me to all of her friends& I brought her to all my parties & introduced her to all of mine.

      They loved having her around, as did I. We went on the most crazy adventures every time we got high. We were pregnant together with our very first girls, we would stay up all night driving around stalking, and eating cheese curls.

      You were a little extreme babe, I have to admit. But that was just you and we all loved you for it. A couple years in and each another kid, you loved farther away, and we drifted apart.

      Not only that- that wasn’t just it. I was becoming a mess , spiraling, and there was nothing you ladies could do.

      Another couple years and I hadn’t heard from you, but I bump into you at detox, who would’ve knew?

      It happens again except this time in Jail, and we get out at the same time, and go back to hanging out like things were just fine. We started with pills, trading, scoring and selling, our lives already falling apart, so we kept rebelling.

      Now I’d introduce you to my friends and my connects and you introduced me to yours – and I remember you taking off with a dealer… that’s when you got sores.

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      I remember this well, yet I remember it vaguely, but I still remember standing in your shower, 13 years old , us learning to douche.

      We’ve both fallen to our knees, gotten up and tried again lost everything and everyone , given up on all of our dreams – we’ve both been hurt and been used, been loved and been bruised- we’ve both been thieving and we’ve both been grieving …. We’ve both cleaned up and we’ve both relapsed.

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      It’s been a long time now since I heard your name, or thought of you, and it’s sad.

      You still have a chance at a beautiful life. You still have the chance to get away and make it all right. You still have a chance to get those beautiful kids, and creating the life that you always wanted to live in.

      How is it true that the whole time I was watching you, you were watching me?

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      #2021 #bediscovered #brandnew #discover #education #followers #hero #new #zero #zerotohero addiction being a mom beliefs blog challenges children choices death everyday life family fighter friends heaven journaling living the dream loss love mental health mom life moms motherhood netflix nonet parenting poetry questions random real life recovery thoughts truthmommy Uncategorized wedorecover wordpress zerotohero

        Home » The Truth Mommy Blog

        Introducing… Creative Gems

        Being you..

        Your Style, Your Perception Pt. 1

        “To express one’s truest self, we must first be one’s truest self”

         

          Painting our fingernails, Painting our toenails, clipping them short – making them long – keeping them neat, or not bothering at all.  Painting our eyelids & painting our faces. Inking our bodies, just on the surface – inking our bodies deeply with colors. Peircing new holes and making them shiney- covering up holes or trying to make them look tiny. Shaving our bodies- even underneath our clothes- gluing additional hair onto some places, and taking vitamins in hopes that more grows. Adding brighter colors, or just making it look lighter – adding darker colors, for the sake of “going dark”. Cutting it short – growing it long – Leaving it down, Putting it up. Removing skin we didn’t want there – Adding on skin because it’s not there. Wearing a watch, a bracelet rings, or an anklet- rings on your fingers & your face – studs and hoops in every space – Wearing no jewelry at all, Your own fashion statement. Lining our eyes, heavily with the darkest possible color – Using a light brown, lightly lining the lids. Mascara-covered eyes that really catch your attention – Long natural lashes enclosing big beautiful colored eyes that look like they are from a different dimension. Long thin and plucked eye brows with a natural-looking arch – dark eyebrows drawn on like a line, sharp like a shark. No eyebrows, room for creativity, draw your style right on your face.

        It’s how we speak. It’s what we see. How we see ourselves, how we want to see ourselves. How do we see others, and do we all really see the same? Not as far as how great our vision is, but what we actually visbily see when looking at something, someone. We perceive things we see the same. No? No, actually we don’t. We do not all look at something/ someone and see the same exact thing as one another.…. Do we???

        If we all saw , I meant looked at things and saw the same exact thing, disregarding the shaprness of the image, but just the image itself. Whatever is in front of our eyes, does it look the way it looks to me, to you?

         I took my nail polish off of all 20 nails for the first time in…. like, what feels like ever, a few weeks ago. I’m just now realizing that is partly why I am not feeling quite myself as of late. I wear Black. Black nails. Black eyelashes. Black liner. I am inked, both on the surface and deep in my skin. I am pierced, in many places and I like wearing hoops. I wear a watch and whenever I forget it at home, I feel naked. I wear rings on my fingers and sometimes on one toe, I have a favorite anklet that I love for show. I wear bracelets and Blush and I carry a large purse on 1 arm… not over my shoulders or across my chest, but you will never catch me out of the house in a dress. I don’t know why but when I look in the mirror I just don’t like to see myself in a dress, it doesn’t look right to me, but would it to you?

         Do we perceive things the same? How is what is directly in front of our eyes the exact same thing, looking exactly the same in both of our eyes, yet our perception can be so different?

           How does one of us see sunshine and the other see the clouds?

         How come if I say the glass is half full, you say it’s half empty? I mean, that is fine- but why is it at all?

         How can one of us look in the mirror and see beauty while the other sees ugly? Why?

          I’m not saying, either way, is wrong- I’m just questioning.

          Knowledge. That’s something we need to spread like butter. Spread it on me please ;]

        #hairbrush. #comb. #mousse. #Gel. #Extras Hold. #Level 10. #blowdryers. #Straightener. #FlatIron. #Mascara. #Eyeliner. #Blush. #Hoop #Earrings. #Brushes. #Loofas. #Eyelashes. #Magentic. #Beauty. #tattoos #tatted #heels #nailpolish. #nails.

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        My Women’s Health Movement for 2022

        I’m starting a movement.

        A non-self-righteous-but-still-righteous movement for women. Very, very, but yet not so much only – forWomen.

        As I type this, I’m realizing that – men can have this as a diagnosis as well. Well that’s pretty shocking , would you agree?

        I’d say. But anywho… this post is gonna introduce you l ll ll llll to, [ maybe some of you have heard of or met before today] – a Great Enemy to women, known as Prolapse.

        Prolapse is the Bodies Ultimate Great Enemy. Prolapse’s of / regarding the Pelvic Floor Should be a Great Fear to you too, especially if your a woman who plans to bare your fruit and multiply…. I’ll check back on that one –

        This is something that nobody is careful of or at least not openly. Nobody is openly looking for. This isn’t something we talk about or even know to check for.

        It’s to quite a different degree for a man. I mean, had someone warned you of these things… maybe checked & mentioned it during your annual pap- not saying you wouldn’t want to or that you wouldn’t have kids, but maybe you’d stop when the Dr. First Notices a “mild” or “beginning to” Prolapse of xxx organ”. Maybe you’d be precautious enough, or will do more preventative type and proactive things such as, changing your diet, absolutely not straining during bowel movements, you could learn proper breathing and do breath work and such. Maybe you’ll actually go to the Birth & Labor classes before giving birth…. Even just if it’s not your first baby .

        Proverbs 21:21 tells us: “Whoever pursues righteousness and love finds life, prosperity and honor

        It’s what they tell us.. multiply… create new life… create the future leaders of tomorrow …

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        Well, while doing so- be sure to do lots of kegels- and do them the right way.

        Did you know that they have physical therapy for the Pelvic Floor? I didn’t either. Well, they suggest a woman lie on her back, placing one hand on her lower abs & the other using 2 fingers, inserted into your vagina…. “ Now SQUEEZE!!” , to make sure that we’re doing it right…. But otherwise, they do it for you, you only do the squeeezing part…. They measure while your lying, measure while your standing & measure while you cough.

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        Even at the Urogynocologist ( yes they exist) – there’s a lot of measuring done, to gauge tve level/stage of the prolapsed organ.

        The feeling is heavy… you may feel as though it’s that time of the month, and maybe it is, too but no.

        Some people don’t and wouldn’t know what to expect. What to look for. And they need to know. This needs to be talked about, taught.

        In school, and even as young adults , even some adults… we struggle to say the words vagina, and penis. We giggle, laugh, look around at each other to gauge the response…. It’s not taken seriously. It needs to be.

        Something has got to give.

        Women’s health, mental health, pelvic floor health, PMDD, pms- Men’s health…. It’s all got to be looked at under a microscope and taught just the same.

        It’s time to break out. Break free of stigmas. Giggles, laughter, shame, judgement…, it’s been stopping us for years.

        This is a confidence killer.

        This is something that can break you down, make you feel weak. Vulnerable. This could break apart your self esteem and confidence and shatter your spirit.

        This is something that changes you to your core. Let’s close Talk about it.

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        Running Up That Hill…

        When you realize that you’ve been smoking for more than half of your life…. The feelings of disappointment, disgust, failure & mostly… Fear… are paralyzing…. It’s too hard to sit in those thoughts.

        When you take that first deep inhale, and realize that you reach a point of fullness FAR too soon… the fear is just suffocating.

        When you close your eyes and picture raisins in place of lungs…. A long drawn out, painful, too soon death & a family grieving their rock, their mom….. it should be enough.

        It should all be enough… so why isn’t it??

        Trying to Quit smoking is hard enough… raising a family is hard enough….

        Working on yourself … trying to be a better person in every way- every single day , after being a certain way for so long…. Old habits die hard.

        Trying to quit bad habits is hard.

        Trying to break any habits , is hard.

        I began this Journey 4 days ago. 6.21.22. (but whose counting?) If that day had no significance to me already, maybe I wouldn’t have continued on. If I had not seen or felt some type of thing, some shift in my world, in my very own body, as I drove home that night… maybe my thinking would be clearer.

        As I struggled to put on the Patch- I told myself I was quitting smoking, Period. I wasn’t going to fall into the fad of E cigs & Vapes again. Heck, if I’m going to smoke, I’m going to smoke a long, tasty, menthol, Newport 100. Something that I unfortunately ENJOYED smoking. This wasn’t my first rodeo, but I do hope it can be my last.

        The night before I couldn’t fall and stay asleep. I was having nightmares and instead of going back to them, I sat awake over and over-thinking them.

        That was when it was decided.

        I threw my legs over the side of my bed and pulled myself up, sitting staring, thinking.

        I got up, grabbed and opened a patch, and slapped that baby on my shoulder. This could be it. This could really be it. This should really be it. The end of an era. The beginning of a new, happy life full of lots of calming, medatative, long, deep breaths.

        Anyone who says it’s easy to quit smoking, may need to be re-humbled. Although, maybe there are some people whose bodies just do not become physically dependant to anything. Maybe there are people who do not become mentally addicted, to anything at all. Maybe its an unknown medical condition. Being unable to become dependant. Unable to be addicted to one anything. If it were, that would be a disorder I could get with.

        I, on the other hand, have what they call an ‘ Addictive Personality’.

        In the recent years I’ve been told what I have is a medical “Disorder”. Addictive personality Disorder. In the not so recent years, when I was burying myself in my addictions as deep as I possibly could, no one called it a disorder. It was more of a problem, a burden not only to myself, but to the people around me, and it was treated as such. Figure that🤔

        ❄️.

        I’m on this Journey. I keep pushing forward, trying to do better. Be better. I’m struggling…. There are Farr to many options and alternatives out there. My brain is overstimulated. Between the patch, Nicorette & modern day vapes. Cold Turkey just won’t do this time. . .

        What are your thoughts? Are you a former Smoker? A Quitter?

        Do you believe in bandaids? Weaning?Vaping ? Nicotine Gum or Patches? Or are you cold stone Cold Turkey ??

        Let us know your thoughts, stories & opinions! Share in the comments