My hamster passed away last night and I am so god damn heartbroken. M got her when we found out I was sick, so she could keep me company as I was off work for 2 and a half months, and it was getting lonely being unable to leave bed. She’d smile when I walked in her room, and she’d nibble my nose and nuzzle my hand. I read to her until she got used to my voice, and we’d balance carrots on the roof of her cage, so she could climb for them. 
I feel overwhelmingly sad as I was so unprepared for her to go. And I have exhausted myself from crying so much. I didn’t realise how much I loved my little one until I found her still. Goodbye Scramble, you will forever be missed. 

Tomorrow my parents are hosting a party for far too many people for my socially anxious self to accept. 100+ people in one house: but I’m excited, because M is coming, my childhood best friends are coming, and we’re celebrating my parents 25 wedding anniversary. There’s been various points in the last year where shit has just got too bad, and I’ve really believed that they were breaking apart. But they fought and tomorrow is a celebration of that. And I am thankful they didn’t give in. 
On another note, it’s been 2 months since I had my surgery and I’m not going to lie, it’s been emotionally exhausting. For the first two weeks I cried, often, for no reason at all. But I’ve begun to feel like a different person: having something effecting my moods, changing my body rapidly and causing me to feel tired god damn constantly, for the last three years, and now suddenly I have so much energy, and I feel genuinely, overwhelmingly happy. I feel really, really good. 

"You are the universe, expressing itself as a human for a little while."
— Eckhart Tolle  

Her (2013)

Almost three weeks later and I am healing well. 
Despite a lot of paranoia about infections, two of my wounds have lost their scabs and are now look similar to scratches. All bruises have / are disappearing and fading fast. My belly button is still quite messy, and of course, my inside stitches — I can’t tell how well they are healing, but I was told it would take up to three months for them to fully heal. 

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s god damn impressive how great bodies are and how much trauma they can take and recover from. Not to mention how quickly they do it. (I also can’t wait to be 100% — which ultimately, will be very soon.) 

Tomorrow is a road trip kind of day and I’ll be seeing my favourites for the first time in a long while. Though I am constantly exhausted as my body is fighting to heal and, the pain is growing, as are the bruises (I have a south america shaped bruise inexplicably growing across my back — battered doesn’t describe my poor body right now) I am excited. 
Four hours in the car is going to ache, but improvising with pillows across my abdomen and as many pain killers as I can handle, I’m sure it’s going to be worth it. Recovery has been a bore, and I can’t take sitting indoors much lonnger — my fingers are crossed the sun will come out and play, too.

liferuin:

Akuma Aizawa | Tumblr
Hotel, 2013

Yesterday marked exactly one month since I was rushed to hospital with suspected appendicitis.
Yesterday I also received surgery to take out the ovarian cyst that has been beating my insides for 2 - 3 years, unnoticed. I lost my right ovary which was beyond the point of repair and my womb has been slightly damaged in the process. I’m not going to lie: it’s been terrifying, but now I’m at home recovering I feel okay. Sore, but accepting.

"Do not mistake yourself for a garden or a muse or a promise or a victim or a snack. You are a woman, skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat. You are not made of metaphors, not apologies, not excuses."
— "The Type" by Sarah Kay 

Tomorrow is one year with my gnome. 
It’s strange: today I woke with a text saying, “On this day a year ago, I was terrified about the idea of not seeing you again, and desperate to kiss you. I’m glad I did.” We’ve had a lot thrown at us, from illness to insult and all the in betweens, but in the quiet when we are dancing (or rather — jumping) around your living room to songs we both love, snuggling on the sofa laughing hard at our awful television choices, on our road trips talking of wanderlust and longings, or preparing dinner together with our little rituals, is when I realise it is more than worth it. 
I could ask for little more. 

definitelydope:

This part of me is not real (by a freedom craver’s diary)

"Sadness gives depth. Happiness gives height. Sadness gives roots. Happiness gives branches. Happiness is like a tree going into the sky, and sadness is like the roots going down into the womb of the earth. Both are needed, and the higher a tree goes, the deeper it goes, simultaneously. The bigger the tree, the bigger will be its roots. In fact, it is always in proportion. That’s its balance."
— Osho Rajneesh
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