After the hospital today.

Guess who’s pelvic floor muscles are perfect?! (The physio literally said that!)

Guess who doesn’t have pelvic floor issues?

Sadly, guess who’s back on the diagnostic ladder?

Yes, it’s your favourite system. To be fair, the hospital apologised for the fairly long wait (next appointment is the 1st of August) and our physio was lovely. The internal exam we had also didn’t hurt at all! The physio said we should be very proud of such a huge accomplishment. She’s not wrong.

As always, the Dutchman was there to hold our hand and let us know where we were. 2017, safe with him, living in the Netherlands. 27 managed to surface and do the whole exam with the rest of us, which was good as she managed to stay present through the whole thing. We also managed to have a laugh with the physio and stay calm.
Sadly, after all that anxiety, 27 and our body has absolutely crashed. It’s your friendly neighborhood nineteen writing this for you guys to read. Please let me know if you spot 27 acting really depressed or suicidal, she’s been very ill with that recently and I have to make sure it’s not just sixteen who’s alone in protecting her. 

As for me? I hate seeing 27 so fragile. She fights for us all every day and doesn’t really get much in return. Her anxiety is literally through the roof a lot of the time, and I just want to see her safe. It’s funny, usually she does this for us all, but this time round, it’s me, helping her. She deserves the rest.

So, now that long wait. If anyone has tips for easing our pain (besides heat packs as some days we live with one of those attached to us), please drop us a line in the comments.
Love and spoons, nineteen. 

The right thing.

The universe keeps dropping hints in my lap.

After saying what had happened, there has been an outpouring of love. I could so easily have been judged for what happened. I felt tortured by guilt at the start of it all. I called myself all the names the voices once called me…

Until I realised something.

R has been instrumental in helping me make my choice. She let me know that I wasn’t a bad person, that this was not my fault. You can’t choose who and when you fall in love. She told me that sometimes, love crashes into your life and you can’t stop it.

Sometimes, she said, your love morphs into friendship and you don’t see it happening. She said the distance could affect how I felt only a little, and that maybe taking a risk would be a good thing to do if it felt right.

What she said about friendship rang a bell. I’d always been a good friend to J, but it felt different with the Dutchman. There was that spark I’d been craving, the feeling of vlinders and stardust. I didn’t know why it was there. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to stop it from happening. I didn’t want to be “that girl”, the one who ran away to someone else on a whim…

Only, it just didn’t feel like a whim. It felt like something much more solid than a whim. Especially when the whim in question talked non-stop to me and sent pictures of lights and dogs, and looked forward to seeing me again…

A whole year of waiting had pulled my heartstrings to breaking. The time really had come to accept that what was in front of me was the right thing.

There was a crackle of static and I knew, with a pair of lips inches from mine, that I had fallen hard and fast and there was no denying this any longer.

Best about this?

The younger ones have actually talked to him. They love him too.