Home Journal Fibroids will thrive as long as life remains out of control

Fibroids will thrive as long as life remains out of control

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Sad-Girl-by-monica

I am already falling off track and I haven’t even really begun my life transformation project yet. I have too much going on. I need to get my days to where I don’t have any obligations and I can focus entirely on this project. I started this post yesterday but I just didn’t have the energy to get past the first three sentences. Here I am today, still a bit deflated, frustrated and a lot of other negative emotions. The title of this post “Fibroids will thrive as long as life remains out of control” remains a point of focus for me at the moment. My life is out of control, and my fibroids continue to thrive. I don’t know if they will cease to thrive when my life stops being out of control, if my life ever stops being out of control. Maybe by the time my life stops being out of control I will be physically not in a condition for fibroids to have the ability to thrive. In other words I will be in menopause. They say the fibroids dry up then.

It’s been an interesting morning so far. I spoke to my mother today. She was very upset. Being a mother isn’t easy. I only have one child. I’ve been a mother now for 25 years. That’s a long time. It’s also not easy being a wife. Being either of these things by themselves can take a toll. Being both–well, let’s just say that the woman who can claim both of these experiences to be wonderful all the time is either new to both, or fortunate in a way that most of us aren’t. My mother has been both a mother and wife for 47 years. She has 7 children. When I mentioned about my mother being upset to one of my sisters (I love you sis), she referred to our mother as a drama queen. That was very upsetting to me. I get very upset when people speak disrespectfully about mothers and talk about them as if all they are is a pain in everyone’s ass.

My mother wasn’t a perfect mom.  If you’re not a perfect person you’re not going to be a perfect mother. Having children doesn’t suddenly wipe the slate clean and erase all of the experiences that have shaped your life and shaped who you are. Those experiences are going to impact on how you raise your children. The way of the world is going to impact on how you raise your children. The time in which you live is going to impact on how you raise your children. The ways of your culture are going to impact on how you raise your children. Where you are in your own life when you have each individual child and as you raise each individual child is going to impact on how you raise your children. Before you are a mother or a wife you are a person. All of the things you are experiencing in life are weighing on you and shaping you and evoking responses from you so that you are acting and reacting as in nature, which is to say often without rhyme or reason, often without law or order, often without logic — inconsistently, erratically, unstably. And it’s perfectly okay because, well, you’re human just like everybody else. “Mother” is just  a role that you, the human being that you are, will play for the rest of your life; and you don’t get a script. No one pens the role of perfect mother for you and directs you in acting out this role. You don’t already know all the scenes of your life story, what’s going to happen and how you’re going to react, what you’re going to say, how you’re going to say what you’ll say, what expression you will wear on your face. People want the perfect mothers they see on TV; but maybe if Beaver Cleaver was in the habit of telling his mother June to go [bleep] herself whenever she tried to do her job as a mother she would have been a lot less perfect. It’s so unfair to hold mothers to such a standard that they must always be kind and loving and giving and nurturing and seeing to the needs of everyone else and never concerned with their own wants and needs under any circumstance. You can be sure if you were a perfect child you would have had a wonderful experience with your mother, unless she is of the Joan Crawford variety and then who knows what the truth is there? But if you were a perfect child your mother would have had the easiest time doing her job and you would now have only good things to say about her.

Let’s stop trashing our mothers. If your mother made sure you always had food to eat and you had clothes on your back and a roof over your head, and you arrived at adulthood in one piece and equipped with enough mental fortitude to be able to take reasonably good care of yourself, she did what she needed to do for you. The rest is up to you. Our mothers don’t owe us love and affection. It’s nice when they give it but as some who give it in copious doses can tell you, a mother’s love will never save a child from him or herself. Most of what is going to happen to us in life is going to happen not because of how we were raised or not raised but because of who we are and the choices that we make. Parents try to guide but pretty damn early we start slamming doors in their faces and telling them to butt the bleep out; and even if we don’t literally slam a door and curse at them, we’re doing our level best to push them away and keep them out of our lives and fight for our right to do what we want by the time we’re ten. It’s just easy and convenient to blame them when our lives don’t work out the way we planned.

Several hours later

It’s been many hours since I wrote most of the above. Like I said it’s been a weird day. I am very drained. I mean really seriously drained to the point of confusion and sadness. There’s no one single cause. It’s everything. I really need to get to the point where I can really focus on just me and my health because I can’t do this stretching myself thin in a million directions thing much longer. I’m split in too many parts trying to be too many things to too many people. I want to be able to help everyone; but if it’s going to make me get sick in the process of trying that’s not a good thing for anyone, most especially for myself. Too much stress can drive you crazy. I can’t afford to lose what little I have left of my mind.

The picture in this post is a photo I took of myself in a ridiculous wig a few years ago when I was going through one of my artistic phases. I wanted to find an easier way to create artwork so I decided I would take photos of myself in various poses and then transform the photos into digital art. This piece is titled “Sad Girl”. I am using it because it reflects how I feel today.

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My name is Monica. I have fibroids. My fibroids are large enough that they have transformed my figure into something I am still trying to learn how to live with. In the meantime while I try to learn how to live with my fibroids I am also trying every possible method I can find to try to shrink them naturally because I am afraid of the idea of a hysterectomy. I lived with fibroids from 2007 - 2016. I started documenting my experiences on this blog in 2012. On March 7th 2016 I had a hysterectomy out of concern that I might have ovarian cancer. It did not turn out that I had ovarian cancer. The cancer scare forced the hysterectomy I was trying to avoid, and so, I became fibroid free as of March 7th 2016. I will try to keep this blog up and running in the hope that it will be of some use to others going through what I went through.

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