Monday, January 28, 2013

October 2006

My mystery coochie pain started in October 2006.  And I'm sitting here thinking, October 2006.  October 2006.  October 2006.

Because my appointment with the pudendal-neuralgia specialist is less than four weeks away.

I reserved a hotel room.  I'm going to go alone and freak out afterwards in my hotel room.  And sleep in my hotel bed and order room service.  I'm going to do it all alone because it's better than having to talk to someone else the whole way there, in the waiting room, after the appointment, the whole way back...  It's not like I would be able to be quiet even if the other person said we could.  And I want to be able to be quiet.

It's a spiritual thing.  People are nice to have around, but there's no way to face the universe in the raw unless you're alone.

Did you ever put a favorite piece of music on your headphones and the piece keeps crescendoing, crescendoing until it's so loud you feel like you have to turn it down but you don't, you let the violins slash apart your skin?  That's what facing this alone is like for me.

Here's that piece.  Except it's pink.


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