I don't feel that now, but I did when I had an ovarian tumor the size of a grapefruit. It felt like my abdomen was something separate from my body, like something hung over my real abdomen. It was a very strange feeling. Could you be bloated and that's making you feel this way?
I haven't worked in almost four years, and before that I was a full-time freelancer. That was the best for me because I could work when I felt well enough she I could shift my hours to the middle of the night when needed. (I'm a night owl, so working overnight is fine for me.) Shortly before the pandemic, I stopped being able to do that because I was missing deadlines due to illness and my clients dried up. I'm lucky to have a supportive spouse. Otherwise, I'd be forced to move in with my mother.
I walk. Sometimes to the point of near collapse, but for me it helps. When I become that bloated, it's usually accompanied by really intense pain. For some reason, the constant motion of walking helps dull the pain a little and it helps me work the gas out of my stomach.
cannot agree enough. ^ I pace like an animal in a zoo plus abdominal massage and usually after an hour or so I'm ok enough to rest with a heating pad. it used to take 6-7 hours to subside. so sorry you're dealing with this
At 53, I still don't feel grown up most of the time. A lot of it has to do with not having kids. I don't have that touchstone of having to keep other human beings alive. And, as a result of not having kids, my husband and I kind of live like unsupervised teens. We still spend entire weekends playing videogames. We still eat whatever we want, whenever we want. We finally bought a house 13 years ago and even that doesn't make me feel like a grown-up. My brother's wife is twenty years younger than me and she feels more mature than I do most of the time.
Breakfast is usually a no for me because I'm usually still full from dinner. (Dinner to noonish seems to be my longest retention period.) But when I can eat something, it's usually yogurt because I tolerate it well. Sometimes I make a scrambled egg, which is another food I tolerate well.
It sounds like you may be suffering from postpartum depression, and also like your husband may be a jerk. Talk to your ob or your pediatrician about the possibility of PPD. You don't have to live like this and it's something a doctor can help. You're not weak. You've been through a huge life change and you need some help getting your feet under you again. There's no shame in that.
It didn’t happen to me, it a guy I was working with. We, and a bunch of other people, were tearing down a set from a theatre show. He jumped off a 4 or 5 ft platform and directly on top of a screw. The bottom of the screw went flush with the sole of his shoe.
They said it was because the canvas was so thick and taught they couldn’t get a needle to go through to his foot — and they couldn’t go through the thickness of the sole.
So sorry you’re dealing with this. My GP really flairs up during my period—total exhaustion, inability to eat or drink…horrible. I think that’s one of the reasons I wound up in the hospital earlier this month. I don’t know if GP is making the periods worse. It’s hard to say. I also lost my period for a bit because I wasn’t eating enough…
I've been wondering if there's a connection between GP and estrogen levels. I had a total hysterectomy 12 years ago and started taking estrogen right after it. About a year ago, my insurance company stopped covering the estrogen and I stopped taking it. Since then, my GP symptoms have been drastically reduced. I haven't had a really major flare up since then. Minor ones, yeah, but not as attack where I felt the need to go to the ER. I mentioned it to my GI and he'd never heard of a connection but said it was possible. It's also possible that it's just a coincidence.
This sounds so familiar. Last night, I cut way too big a slice of cake and my husband asked if I was sure I should eat it. I told him that I'm not in a flare up right now and I'm going to eat whatever I want in whatever quantities I want. It's like I'm trying to get in all the food while I can because by the end of the week I might be afraid to eat anything at all again. It's like there's a rebellion in my brain and I have no control. I'm sure the periods of starving and binging are horrible for my metabolism but I can't bring myself to stop.
That depends. NY passed the CROWN act in 2019, which makes hair discrimination illegal. Prior to that, I've heard plenty of first and second hand accounts of Black women in NYC office jobs being told that their hair is inappropriate for the workplace. I lived in NYC for a pretty long time. A lot of Black women in the city have those stories.
I'm not afraid of death but I'm afraid of dying. When I die, I expect that I'll just cease to exist. That doesn't scare me. But the pain, loneliness, and indignity of dying terrifies me. I hope I can just go peacefully and suddenly.
It took me a long time as well. Most of that was just finding the right person. My flare ups were more sporadic to start, so it was easy to assume that they were all either allergic reactions, stomach flu, or food poisoning. Doctors would tell me to avoid certain foods and try certain things (ginger, peppermint, etc).
This sounds similar to my situation. I was suffering with it for years but it was really sporadic and most of the time I was fine. Flare ups only lasted a day at most. So I went to a a GI to figure it out but if didn't seem like anything serious. He upped up Omeprazole over time and it seemed to help. Then, in 2019, it suddenly got way worse. My flare ups lasted a week, and then a month, and then multiple months. When I told my GI how much it was interfering with my life, he started taking it very seriously. I feel lucky that he was my first doctor and really wanted to make me better. With covid, it still took me a few more years to get diagnosed, but it wasn't because no one took me seriously.
At least three songs are playing at any given time and two of them are mashing into and out of each other. One monologue is running through what I'm doing and what I'm going to do. It's narrating the actual things I'm doing. "I'm going to walk into the kitchen and get a glass. Then I'll fill it with water. Then I'll go into the living room but on the way I'll stop and fill up the cat bowls. I'll put my water glass down on the counter while I fill the bowls." Another one is excoriating me about all the things I should be doing or trying to remind me of things I need to do. Then there's a third monologue reminding me of every stupid or bad thing I've ever done in my entire life. Another is thinking about whatever my current obsession is. Right now it's sumo, but it could be knitting, my cats or dog, a book I'm reading, ideas to redecorate the house, etc. Finally, way deep down and barely heard is the voice that tries to compliment me sometimes. All of that is going on pretty much all the time, all at once. All the voices are my own.
Yes. So much this. Like... What was there before? There had to be something there before to make the first thing happen. Also, since the universe is constantly expanding, WHAT is it expanding into? What's on the other side m
I'm sorry you've had to go through this in your short life. Unfortunately, those of us raised by neglectful parents have to learn to parent ourselves and heal that hurt kid in us on our own. I won't lie: it's not easy. I'm still working on it myself and I'm middle-aged. But you can do it. Healing isn't going to come from external sources. You have to do it for yourself.
More power to them. Skirts are comfy and fun to wear. If men want to wear them, great. Everybody should just wear what they want. Clothing has no gender.
I don't feel that now, but I did when I had an ovarian tumor the size of a grapefruit. It felt like my abdomen was something separate from my body, like something hung over my real abdomen. It was a very strange feeling. Could you be bloated and that's making you feel this way?
I haven't worked in almost four years, and before that I was a full-time freelancer. That was the best for me because I could work when I felt well enough she I could shift my hours to the middle of the night when needed. (I'm a night owl, so working overnight is fine for me.) Shortly before the pandemic, I stopped being able to do that because I was missing deadlines due to illness and my clients dried up. I'm lucky to have a supportive spouse. Otherwise, I'd be forced to move in with my mother.
I walk. Sometimes to the point of near collapse, but for me it helps. When I become that bloated, it's usually accompanied by really intense pain. For some reason, the constant motion of walking helps dull the pain a little and it helps me work the gas out of my stomach.
cannot agree enough. ^ I pace like an animal in a zoo plus abdominal massage and usually after an hour or so I'm ok enough to rest with a heating pad. it used to take 6-7 hours to subside. so sorry you're dealing with this
I haven't tried a heating pad. I'll have to get one and try it.
All the time, after every flare up.
At 53, I still don't feel grown up most of the time. A lot of it has to do with not having kids. I don't have that touchstone of having to keep other human beings alive. And, as a result of not having kids, my husband and I kind of live like unsupervised teens. We still spend entire weekends playing videogames. We still eat whatever we want, whenever we want. We finally bought a house 13 years ago and even that doesn't make me feel like a grown-up. My brother's wife is twenty years younger than me and she feels more mature than I do most of the time.
Breakfast is usually a no for me because I'm usually still full from dinner. (Dinner to noonish seems to be my longest retention period.) But when I can eat something, it's usually yogurt because I tolerate it well. Sometimes I make a scrambled egg, which is another food I tolerate well.
It sounds like you may be suffering from postpartum depression, and also like your husband may be a jerk. Talk to your ob or your pediatrician about the possibility of PPD. You don't have to live like this and it's something a doctor can help. You're not weak. You've been through a huge life change and you need some help getting your feet under you again. There's no shame in that.
Titanic
Same. It's almost like a badge of honor at this point.
Just wait until you're an adult. It's only two more years.
It didn’t happen to me, it a guy I was working with. We, and a bunch of other people, were tearing down a set from a theatre show. He jumped off a 4 or 5 ft platform and directly on top of a screw. The bottom of the screw went flush with the sole of his shoe.
Yikes. Why couldn't they give him the pain meds first?
They said it was because the canvas was so thick and taught they couldn’t get a needle to go through to his foot — and they couldn’t go through the thickness of the sole.
That sounds pretty terrible.
So sorry you’re dealing with this. My GP really flairs up during my period—total exhaustion, inability to eat or drink…horrible. I think that’s one of the reasons I wound up in the hospital earlier this month. I don’t know if GP is making the periods worse. It’s hard to say. I also lost my period for a bit because I wasn’t eating enough…
I've been wondering if there's a connection between GP and estrogen levels. I had a total hysterectomy 12 years ago and started taking estrogen right after it. About a year ago, my insurance company stopped covering the estrogen and I stopped taking it. Since then, my GP symptoms have been drastically reduced. I haven't had a really major flare up since then. Minor ones, yeah, but not as attack where I felt the need to go to the ER. I mentioned it to my GI and he'd never heard of a connection but said it was possible. It's also possible that it's just a coincidence.
This sounds so familiar. Last night, I cut way too big a slice of cake and my husband asked if I was sure I should eat it. I told him that I'm not in a flare up right now and I'm going to eat whatever I want in whatever quantities I want. It's like I'm trying to get in all the food while I can because by the end of the week I might be afraid to eat anything at all again. It's like there's a rebellion in my brain and I have no control. I'm sure the periods of starving and binging are horrible for my metabolism but I can't bring myself to stop.
Baldur's Gate 2.
Who frowns upon it?
In the US, society. Employers, school administrators, etc.
Must be a regional thing. Here in NYC nobody says anything but positive things.
That depends. NY passed the CROWN act in 2019, which makes hair discrimination illegal. Prior to that, I've heard plenty of first and second hand accounts of Black women in NYC office jobs being told that their hair is inappropriate for the workplace. I lived in NYC for a pretty long time. A lot of Black women in the city have those stories.
I'm not afraid of death but I'm afraid of dying. When I die, I expect that I'll just cease to exist. That doesn't scare me. But the pain, loneliness, and indignity of dying terrifies me. I hope I can just go peacefully and suddenly.
I think it's a naked mole rat.
It took me a long time as well. Most of that was just finding the right person. My flare ups were more sporadic to start, so it was easy to assume that they were all either allergic reactions, stomach flu, or food poisoning. Doctors would tell me to avoid certain foods and try certain things (ginger, peppermint, etc).
This sounds similar to my situation. I was suffering with it for years but it was really sporadic and most of the time I was fine. Flare ups only lasted a day at most. So I went to a a GI to figure it out but if didn't seem like anything serious. He upped up Omeprazole over time and it seemed to help. Then, in 2019, it suddenly got way worse. My flare ups lasted a week, and then a month, and then multiple months. When I told my GI how much it was interfering with my life, he started taking it very seriously. I feel lucky that he was my first doctor and really wanted to make me better. With covid, it still took me a few more years to get diagnosed, but it wasn't because no one took me seriously.
At least three songs are playing at any given time and two of them are mashing into and out of each other. One monologue is running through what I'm doing and what I'm going to do. It's narrating the actual things I'm doing. "I'm going to walk into the kitchen and get a glass. Then I'll fill it with water. Then I'll go into the living room but on the way I'll stop and fill up the cat bowls. I'll put my water glass down on the counter while I fill the bowls." Another one is excoriating me about all the things I should be doing or trying to remind me of things I need to do. Then there's a third monologue reminding me of every stupid or bad thing I've ever done in my entire life. Another is thinking about whatever my current obsession is. Right now it's sumo, but it could be knitting, my cats or dog, a book I'm reading, ideas to redecorate the house, etc. Finally, way deep down and barely heard is the voice that tries to compliment me sometimes. All of that is going on pretty much all the time, all at once. All the voices are my own.
Some parts were great. Since parts were... not. My favorite memories usually involve my grandmother.
The universe, what created the first thing and what created that.
Yes. So much this. Like... What was there before? There had to be something there before to make the first thing happen. Also, since the universe is constantly expanding, WHAT is it expanding into? What's on the other side m
I'm sorry you've had to go through this in your short life. Unfortunately, those of us raised by neglectful parents have to learn to parent ourselves and heal that hurt kid in us on our own. I won't lie: it's not easy. I'm still working on it myself and I'm middle-aged. But you can do it. Healing isn't going to come from external sources. You have to do it for yourself.
More power to them. Skirts are comfy and fun to wear. If men want to wear them, great. Everybody should just wear what they want. Clothing has no gender.
This is how you get a cat. Congratulations on your new cat.
This bothers be because it would have been so easy to fit it in to the left of the L.
Oh dear.