jasmine hahn

I'm in a bad place. It's lasted a few months now. Physically it's been just over two years. It's gotten to the place that no matter what I do, it feels like I'll never be back into my own body and quite honestly that makes me not want to live sometimes. On the days that I can forget about it and feel normal for maybe a few hours (generally at home where I do not have to see anyone or do much), the impending doom of life decisions then consumes me. I'm nearly 33, if I want to have children, how on earth am I supposed to give them all the love and attention they need to have a better, more stable childhood than I did if I cannot be physically well every day.

I can't lose weight anymore without surgery, if I want to have a week (say for the holidays) where I don't track what I eat, I gain fat and I'm certain lipodema fat almost straight away. My strength doesn't improve, people think if I run, my symptoms get worse, I walk on average 10k steps a day, I work out all the time, yet if you looked at my normal blood results, I'm healthy. I'm healthy. No had to dig two years for a Lupus diagonsis, I don't have a lipodema diagnosis but it's there, something's not right with my periods but "lol that's just your period," - actual private gynaecologist (everyone says male dr's are unsympathetic, but in my experience it's the women who have never done shit for me.)

I'm somewhat privileged to have money for surgery, but that doesn't fix the face I'm looking at, which was fine 5 years ago. I've had two surgeries this year and I still feel like I'm wearing a fat suit, my skin on my legs and my arms feel like theyre going to rip. Now the fat has moved around my stomach, no definition that I had even a year and a half ago, no answers, just more pain, more heaviness, more clothes that I bought that don't fit. I'm not obese, I can't get ozempic, even though I should be managing any behaviour that makes me eat a treat every now and then and I'm hungry all the fucking time, so that will make the lipodema come back. There are so many "maybes" but not enough people that are willing to give you stuff to try, the only thing you can get is surgery, 7k a pop basically.

So now I'm a burden to money. I'm a burden, no you're not, but I am. I'm tied to it.

Who would've thought the mental stuff was going to be the easiest part, the ADHD, the autism, the emptiness that's come back, the Bi polar diagnosis that has thrown me into despair- or maybe it's the change of meds we never fucking know with these things. The never belonging how hard I try to fix things- now I'm rambling. No one fucking cares. They listen but they don't CARE, they don't listen, they try to help- THERE IS NO HELP. It's unsolicited. It's bullshit. It doesn't HELP. How do I try and keep going when there's an obstacle at every fucking turn, no respite, no release. 

Friends don't reply, they don't get how close I am. Other friends I don't tell because I can't bear the awkwardness and I fear the judgement even though it's a safe space. Cue the strangers to tell me that they're sorry and they're here to talk, bitch I just DID. Don't you get it. Doesn't anyone get it.