How I Dealt with Having an Ovarian Cyst

When I found out I had an ovarian cyst, I didn't fully realize that it could mean I would need surgery or the pain that would follow. I don't like discussing surgery and pain if I can help it. And I got through it without getting addicted to Percocet, which I am thankful for. I described it like getting kicked in the stomach by a horse. It was a dull throbbing pain. And mostly by breathing deep and all I was able to get through it. But while I should have been grateful it wasn't cancerous, like my friends disease, instead, I was ungrateful that I no longer looked like a model. Stupid college girl that I was, I was dating a lawyer who was too old and too fat for me to really want him. And I couldn't enjoy myself especially after having surgery and he indicated that he wanted sex. Ah, kindness of strangers.

And what really got me was that I was a Christian and a communication major, and really couldn't communicate my desire to get married and be a mom. I was doing so well in school, and I thought I wanted to write. But I don't have the guts to really to be a real writer. So I mostly just write online. And well, its good and all, and I like it. But I really thought since I found out I was a genius I would write important books or something. But mostly I just write poetry, and my opinions. Which aren't too original. But I feel that as a Christian I am supposed to fight the good fight. And do what's right and be a good role model for young women.

So I really do want to wait till marriage and I really wish someone would ask me out. I'm not all ugly or anything, I'm just sensitive and it hurts when men are so nice to me and insist they just want to be friends. And I get so involved in their lives and it hurts that they can't see me as anything else. And then I don't want to waste more time being their friend when I could be at the gym working out and improving myself. So that someone would want me. And then when I told T. I loved him he said he wasn't attracted to me. And when I tried losing weight, he went ballistic and said I was trying to manipulate him and it hurt so bad. Why does love have to hurt so much?

I consider myself pretty romantic. But most guys seem so vulgar. They equate being sexual with being sexy. And I sort of like 50's grace personally. The women were gorgeous and men were gentlemen and no one was so vulgar to use words like "Bi@$%" or "C#*" And it hurts me to hear such language. But that's the world we live in today. A fast paced, vulgar, crass and inhospitable world. And no wonder I didn't really want to get better. Why I had no real reason to get better. Because everyone's so graphic and crass and they don't see any point to having an imagination. Or leaving anything up to the imagination.