Pain

"Women's tolerance to pain may vary at different points in their menstrual cycle. Women may experience greater sensitivity to pain during the week before menstruation. For this reason, many experienced estheticians recommend that women schedule waxing appointments for the week after menstruation, when pain tolerance is generally at its highest."

Ah that might be why it hurt so much this time. Oh.My.God. The pain was HORRIFIC. I sat there in agony clenching my jaw tight and wondering why I had not only volunteered for this, but I was actually paying the woman 14 quid to torture me. And it wouldn't stop, I felt every hair on my brow line get yanked out. And I thought why on earth am I doing this? Why? Don't scream. It will be over soon. It will stop. Et hoc transibit..

Next time, I'm checking the calendar before I see to any grooming.

But for future reference, for when I feel so hideous I can't look in a mirror- yes, I still need to drop a dress size, but you know what? I can scrub up pretty decently with not much more than a touch of eye makeup, lip gloss and a big happy smile. I need to smile more.

This blog is often very introspective, often gloomy, it gives (I think) very little indication of the kind of person I actually am or appear to others. I rarely bother to write when I'm in a good mood, which I often am. I never display negative emotions, I can't even talk about them. I'm usually the one chatting to everyone at the party, trying to keep everyone happy, laughing, looked after..and dancing. Any problems/upsets I will be called on to smooth out. Which is pretty much what I've been doing since I was 10 with my Family.

That's 20 years of the poor "party flow" analogy. No one has any idea of the capacity for misery I have, because I have no interest in displaying it. Moving out of the Family home, leaving my city behind altogether, and mentally deciding I could NOT carry their woes anymore or fix their debilitating problems has changed EVERYTHING for me. This is not something I talk about here at all. I talk about men and girl stuff and a myriad of other silly things, but the really painful stuff I can't even touch. I don't want to touch.

My Sister said last week, half jokingly, half serious, that maybe I needed to see a counselor for two decades of being the "responsible one". It seems the cracks have been showing on me for sometime and not even I can hide that I can't handle it anymore. There are times I am aware it's like I'm burying my head in the sand and letting Rome burn. I'm learning to be selfish, an entirely new but liberating concept. I'm doing it because mentally and emotionally I just can't anymore. I have closed off. I'm sorry. I just don't know how to fix this. God knows I've been trying for a really long time and I just can't. I can't make you happy. Or you. I can't solve the financial nightmares. I can't be your confidante. Or yours. I can't get her to stop crying, or him to stop spending. It says alot when you're affectionately nicknamed "Geneva- the peace keeper" since your early teens. For fucks sake I was a child.

I had a lovely time last week. We're a tight family. There's ALOT of love there. No more than three days, mind :)

HAPPY NEW YEAR! WOO-HOO!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!