OVERHEARING THEM HAVING SEX WHEN YOU HAVE VULVODYNIA.
LOOK, GUYS, AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED, YOU DON'T HAVE THINGIES TO DO THAT WITH.
That would be true even if I didn't have vulvodynia.
Neither of you is...my type.
But Jesus God Almighty Christ the Savior in Heaven Above and Mary and Joseph While We're At It, I DO NOT CARE. HOW ANYTHING YOU'RE DOING FEELS. I do not care that you're doing it. I do not care that it is possible for you to do. I do not care about your urges and the particular way in which you're acting on them.
AND OH MY FREAKING GOD, WHY is it that I can't hear you EVER at ANY other time of day but then when you start to have sex it's HELLO HERE WE ARE?!?!?! Gee thanks, so glad you'll be tucked in safe and warm tonight!
Seriously, the guy down there's voice is way too resonant. Kind of like -- kind of like he's on a speaker. But just the guy. Which makes me wonder...where's Mr. Neighbor tonight?
I AM SITTING HERE in my bed at one a.m. watching MATLOCK and listening to foreplay.
I think, maybe, with some luck, someday I'll also be able to annoy my neighbors. But the reality is that, of all us crotch bloggers, I think I'm the newest to vulvodynia -- at 2.5 years. AND THAT MAKES ME FREAKING ANGRY. Because I blog alongside some amazing women who should never have to live with this, let alone without knowing when or IF it will end. They should be annoying their neighbors instead, on whatever schedule pleases them. Sex should be a matter of will and desire, not of whether a person can tolerate it today or any day.
People find my blog by googling for shit that you would never want to have happening in your pants. And with every new query string I just want to beat the hell out of something. No one should be googling for that shit! No one should have as her best health resource the accidental blogs of others with her nameless condition.
Don't take your coochies and weewees for granted, readers. Don't, of course, take anything for granted.