I’m starting to realise how much the last month or so has taken a toll on me, both physically and mentally. Early September had me feeling not quite right for a reason I couldn’t put my finger on but had mistakenly attributed to a possible combination of a sinus infection and a depressive episode. Then the extreme tooth pain hit me and I ran to the dentist to find out that my bottom right wisdom tooth was so fucking infected and impacted that it was almost certainly the reason I’d been feeling so shitty, which began a week of pain pills and antibiotics while I waited to get them extracted. Then it was a diet of pudding cups and protein shakes during that recovery period, and almost as soon as I was feeling back to normal it was time to get half my body chopped up and be stuck at home laying on my stomach for what feels like an eternity. All in all it’s been a lot of time spent cooped up in my apartment feeling bored and alone and frustrated and helpless, with the added punch of my income suffering while I’ve not really been in a place to feel sexy enough to shoot photos for weeks.
Last night a friend and I were discussing how surgery really makes it hit home just how fucking single you are. I had a boyfriend who I lived with when I went through my first boob job back in 2010 and god it was so much easier than my two more recent surgeries where I have, for the most part, had to fend for myself. I was left alone for the majority of the first 48 hours after my second boob job in a state where I wasn’t even physically capable of opening my prescription pill bottles and I don’t think I realised how traumatic this actually was til a few days before this recent surgery when I had a full on panic attack meltdown out of fear of the same thing happening again. If you’ve got a partner who is truly, always there for you, don’t take that shit for granted.
This time I’ve been feeling so trapped and isolated that I can actually feel my mental health plummeting. I’ve spent way too much money on lymphatic massage sessions just to have some form of human interaction that isn’t through Twitter. My lower back is so sore from being on my stomach all day and all night that I’m struggling to sleep and my skin is so itchy and irritated from wearing a tight compression suit 23 hours a day that I want to rip it off my body. I haven’t been taking my Vicodin prescription but yesterday at about 6am after spending two hours going back and forth between my bed and the guest bed and rotating between different pillows and blankets trying to find anything that made me comfortable enough to fall asleep I gave up and popped a pill just to knock out for a few hours before I had an actual breakdown. Yesterday afternoon I ended up walking to a local bar to meet up with some other Austin-based Aussies, and then a good friend let me lay across the back seat of her car and took me to one of my favourite country bars for a drink but after being out for an hour or two it felt like someone was stabbing a screwdriver into my stomach and I had to come home.
But the other day, the morning after waking up about five times during the night to pee out what felt like gallons of fluids that my body had been retaining post-surgery, I took off my compression suit to shower and almost burst into tears of happiness when I saw my waistline and new hourglass figure in the mirror. I’m still a long way off from seeing my final result but I cannot believe this is my body now. It’s incredible and overwhelming and makes all the bad shit I’ve been feeling so fucking worth it. Tuesday I’ll finally get my butt pillow and be able to sit in a chair/ride in a car properly so I will have a lot more freedom. On top of all that, my mouth feels brand new and it’s like I’ve had this great pressure released from my jaw that I didn’t even realise was there, I guess it’d just been there for so long.
Back to back surgery has been brutal and I still have a long, annoying road of recovery ahead, but I know I am going to come out of this feeling better than ever before.