it f*cks them up later in life. hahaha! Like you didn't know that, right.
It's funny. I spent my whole life denying the shit that I went through as a kid. Now, let's get some things clear about this. I am not whining. I am just talking. My childhood wasn't fabulous, but it sure wasn't terrible either. I just forgot to deal with any of the bad shit until I was 30 years old. Up to that point, I just pretended that everything was honky dory.
I've spent the last two years working through some shit. I am learning how to like me. I am realizing that my self image is totally fuc*ed up and that I need to fix that. I don't need to see myself through rose-colored glasses, but I don't need to see myself through the fun-house mirror, either. It's funny, I had to get fat to realize that I wasn't fat. Now I just need to get back to not being fat again...
I went to shrinks, I talked with friends, I thought, and thought some more and more and more... you get the picture. I spent the last two years of my life processing the first 25ish of my life. It was hard work. It got the better of me a lot of the time. It made me cranky, cantankerous, and I often self-medicated myself into an oblivion. In the end, I got through it.
I am learning how to take care of myself. If you read the "broken" blog, you will understand where I am at mentally. So, I've been making appointments, seeing doctors and getting some things taken care of. Because I am worth it. I am slowly weaning my way off of the Effexor that I was on. It is hard. Shit, let me rephrase that. It sucks balls! I just really don't think I need it though. I think it was a band-aid that I used when I was looking for a quick fix cure to my brokenness.
So, I went to the doc yesterday. I had seen an otolaryngologist about a year ago and he was a total prick to me, so I never went back. This new one seems to be pretty nice, and he explained a lot to me.
When I saw the ophthalmologist last year, she told me that I would have to have surgery on my brow because of the damage done to my forehead by blunt trauma. She asked if my husband beat me. Of course he doesn't. So then she wanted to test me for Bells Palsy. Well, when I told her that I had been hit repeatedly upside the head, but it was just a long, long time ago. She told me that is why I needed the surgery on my forehead. Anyway, so it tore me up. I was so angry and so bitter with my father. I cried. I screamed. I got drunk. I got more angry. I called my gramma (his mother) and told her that she should tell him what he had done.
So, I keep digressing, I am sorry. Here's the thing: He f*cked up way more than just my eyebrow (my eyebrow is slowly falling over my eye). He f*cked up my nose and my ear, too. It is all fixable, thank goddess. Anyway... these things we do in the heat of the moment, in the throws of anger, they last a long, long time. These are wounds that heal very, very slowly.
I really think that I have gotten myself to a good place. I think that allowing myself to be angry and sad about all of these things is good. I was never allowed to be emotional about any of it before. Either I was expected to be a grown up (at 4 years old) or I wouldn't allow myself to feel things. I was uncomfortably numb.
So, May 14th, they are going to hack up my nose. Hopefully it will stay mostly the same in appearance. I actually kinda like my nose. They are going to fix my septum and shave my turbinates. Then I should be able to breath normally again. The end of next month, I have my consult with the occuloplastics surgeon about my forehead/eyebrow surgery. They will make two small incisions in my hair line and inflate my forehead with saline solution. Once they do that, they will attach sutures to the back of my eyebrow and they will put titanium anchors into my skull. They will attach the sutures to the anchors and that should stop my eyebrow from falling into my eye. As far as my cochlea goes, that should be fixed through medication. It was shifted (probably from being smacked upside the head), but that cannot be fixed. However, there are three small water sacks in there and the middle one is f*cked up. Apparently this medication that I started taking will help make that function properly again. Then, maybe, I can hear normally.
So, I am going to document the whole process through pictures. I want to be able to see any changes clearly, if there are any. I also want the healing process documented. I plan on sending the pictures to my father. I want him to *see* the hurt he caused so many years later. I want him to know what he has done. I also want him to know that it is almost the exact same case with my mother. He right eye, ear, etc. Hers didn't start being affected until she was my age now, though. My face was f*cked from the get-go.
Oh well... I think I've rambled enough today. This blog is really poorly written, and I am sorry, but I am not going to edit it. This one is written just as it poured out.
luvs
binks
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