Lack of Substance

I realize that ever since I got on good brain meds and started feeling better mentally, my posts have basically consisted of sex stories and pictures of stuff that you might find funny if you're Beavis or Butthead or me. So depression is good for something -- deep blog posts.

But I feel like I've left my readers in the lurch. It's not that I have nothing to say; it's that vulvodynia is no longer the center of my life so I'm not running to my blog to report my thoughts all the time. That doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it, though. Today I went for a hike in my favorite forest preserve and came across this site:

Last time I was there, everything in that photo was laden with ivy leaves. In total there's about a quarter acre in those woods where the ivy has run wild, climbing all the way up the trees and weaving itself across branches and over the path. I remember standing there late last summer under it all wishing I could stay there forever. It was after one bad doctor's appointment or another and I was so frustrated and devastated that I thought with just a little more internal steam I might slither right out of my skin and start over. The ivy was lying over a short tree in a way that made it look like a witch, and her ankles were thin and she had red eyes, and all I could think was how feeble magic looked to me anymore. But I still felt like begging her for a cure.

I can't believe how much has changed for me internally in just eight or nine months. I feel very lucky, and I also feel like everything I've gone through can really help other people. So it's my aim now to write from my new perspective with hope that it will help some of you out there as you try to cope with vulvodynia and move forward with your lives. Ours is a pretty lonely disease, so once we find each other we've got to stick together.