Breast left behind.

I am comfortable with telling you this, because lets face it i’m never actually going to meet any of you face to face. My kids are 9 and 8 years old, and yet latley my breasts have started producing milk again!! I mean wtf?? I have’nt breast fed for 8 years! And no i am definatley not pregnant. So what exactly is going on with my screwed up body, huh?

Ah, what fond memories though. Waking in the morning to find my boobs like concrete blocks, hearing the baby cry and having something akin to two water pistols on my chest. Seriously though, these are the things the pregnancy books definatley do not tell you about. Imagine my suprise when i turned to greet my partner on waking, only to spray him with streams of breast milk, ( he did’nt see the funny side either ). The books fail to tell you so much about the reality of pregnancy, and childbirth, that the shock can be quite monumental. For example, nobody, and i mean nobody tells you exactly how bad the pain of childbirth actually is, and that pregnancy is the most awkward, painfull, and emotional thing you will probably ever go through. The sensation of having a tiny foot jammed up underneath my ribcage, is one of the most un- pleasant feelings i have experienced, and watching feet, elbows, and tiny hands protrude from a very pregnant belly, can only be seen to be beleived. I remember my baby actually kicked a saucer off my belly towards the end, fun times.

If any expectant mums out there are reading this, i’m sorry i’m really not trying to scare you, i just think it’s better to know exactly what to expect. Although saying all this holding you’re baby for the first time is the most amazing experience, and well worth any suprise you’re body can throw at you, and no can can describe for you how you will feel at that moment. I was in labour for 30 hours the first time, both me and the baby were in trouble at one point during loabour and i finally had a fonteuse delivery. It’s when they put what looks like a sink plunger in the birth canal, attatch it to the babies head and pull. I must warn you, that thing feels like it’s made from solid wood going up there, a memory i had definatley blocked out untill now! I have to admit, when they handed my baby over, i have never been more terrified in my entire life. I was sleep deprived, drugged, and ripped to shreds, and they just hand you this tiny defenceless baby, wheel you on to the ward, and let you get on with it! I was petrified, i remember thinking ” they’re going to leave me to look after her? I can’t even see straight.” I don’t know what i thought was going to happen, but i kind of thought i would be able to sleep a couple of hours and let the drugs wear off, before i had sole responsibility of this tiny defensless baby. It was the most frightening moment of my life. Anyway, having said that you would do well to remember to rest as much as possible in those 9 months of pregnancy, and enjoy it as much as you can, it’s a special time.

Well that was a nice trip down memory lane, who would have thought my wierd breast milk situation would envoke such recollections? If any of you ladies out there are pregnant, and want an honest answer about anything i’ve mentioned, just ask. After all knowledge is power oh, and if any of you have had a similar *mumbles behind hand* breast situation to my current one, i would welcome any advice.

emma's blog: I'VE REALLY DONE IT THIS TIME...

emma's blog: I'VE REALLY DONE IT THIS TIME...

I'VE REALLY DONE IT THIS TIME...

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap...I've really messed things up now! My wedding is in two weeks, i don't have the largest income, and i still have to get Ben's suit, wedding rings, flowers, shoes, well the list goes on. So a few weeks ago i had a brainwave, why don't i get a credit card? So my application was accepted, i dutifully signed the credit agreement, leaving ben to look over the details. " ooo he said, the credit limit is £1500!" " nice" i thought to myself. Thats £200 rings, £150 suit, £50 my shoes, £100 flowers, etc.

And so smugly i await the arrival of my shiny new plastic friend to ease my arrival into marital bliss. Forteen days before the actual wedding day, i eagerly await the post. "oooo look how pretty my new card is. Wait, whats that on top of the letter, credit limit £100?" At this point i promptly begin to hyperventilate! Nooooo they have the decimal point in the wrong place, surely?? Sadly not as it turns out. What ben read was actually credit limit up to 1500! UP TO BEN, UP TO, AAAARRRGHH!!

Ok, so i've got myself into a mess....again! Lousy credit companies, if you read my earlier post on " Responsible lending my arse" you are probabaly tutting and thinking i should have learned my lesson by now. Unfortunatly, i did not! I can't beleive i'm actually going to admit the full extent of my stupidity right now, but hell, why not? I had a call from a company called cash finance direct, they told me they could get me a loan and all i had to do was call their premium no. ( £2.00 per min) and they would refund the full price of the call once i sent them my bill. They claimed they would guareentee me a loan. Weeks later, of course no loan, a phone bill for £200 and no sign of the refund cheque they promised me. This is not the first time they caught me out either, throghout the phonecall i had a niggling sense of de ja vous, about a year earlier they had done the same thing concerning a credit card i never received. I was so worried about the cost of the wedding i had forgotten untill i sat and thought about it afterwards. If this company ever contact you, avoid them like the plague they are!

I really can't beleive how stupid i've been, i am totally ashamed of myself folks, and have been left with a large hole to dig myself out of, i have a feeling this one may take some time. Lets hope i can salvage my wedding though?

RESPONIBLE LENDING MY A$%E!!

I think it's safe to say, my finances are pretty screwed at the moment. I am ashamed to say, i have been getting by using those internet payday loans. Last month i borrowed...*nervous cough*..£300. Not so bad, except that i had to pay back £440. ( i admit, the first loan i took out was only £80, and it has been steadily increasing) The problem with this is, by the time i paid this back, paid my bills, i have exactly 0 left. So this morning, i did exactly what i have been doing for..um..well, a while, and as soon as the text came through telling me my loan re-payment had gone through, i set out to borrow another £300. I figured this would pay the remainder of my bills, and allow me to like, eat and stuff. So there i am cockily waiting for the loan to be processed when, " Sorry, we are commited to responsible lending, we can not lend you this amount. However we can offer you £85. Would you like to accept this offer? AAAAAARRRGGHHHH!!! This won't even pay my phone and broadband! This has never happened before! How dare they!!Responsble lending my arse!! Responsible lending would be, not lulling me into a false sense of security for *mumble* months! Responsible lending would be, not leaving me in the shit like this! I mean, how responsible is that huh? HUH? Responsible lending would be, warning me last time i took out a loan. Something along the lines of: " Dear miss carter, please note, that borrowing £300 this month will leave you financially destitute!" If they had warned me that this was going to happen, i PROBABLY would not have borrowed that amount last time! I'm getting married in 5 weeks! *sob* At this rate Ben will have to get his suit from...*choking sob*....a charity shop!! I think i'm going to vomit.

Conspiracy theory?

Call me crazy ( and many have ) but I'm convinced that my housing association are using my mental health issues to drive me out of my house, in order to install a new tenant " more suited to the area". Confused? Yea me too, but bear with me.

Ok, ok, so maybe my conspiracy idea is a tad extreme, but my housing manager has honestly expressed that i may be happier in a different area. She's supposed to be on my side, but when i told her the neighbours give me evils she came out with that little gem. Surely a smile and " you'll soon settle in dear." Would have been better considering I'm becoming increasingly paranoid. Perhaps i should explain the reason behind the neighbours trepidation. The house i live in is supported housing, and the only housing association in the street ( the rest are all privately owned. ) I got the house because we were about to be made homeless, and because i have mental health issues ( don't judge me yet! ) we were housed here. The house hasn't exactly had the greatest tenant history, as the last woman who lived here put the house up for sale! After doing so, she then carted all her furniture onto the front lawn for an impromptu yard sale. Classic loony behaviour. The previous tenants weren't much better, hence the neighbours suspicion towards me.

Anyway, by now i bet you want to know exactly what my mental health issues are huh? The thing is i have ocd ( obsessive compulsive disorder ) It drives me even more crazy than i actually am. It centres around cleaning really, and having everything just so.I have like a daily routine that has to be done in a certain order. It wouldn't be so bad except when i sit down and look around all i see is dirt, and the germs, oh god the GERMS! You get the idea! So why exactly do i think they are using this to drive me out? A few weeks ago some water leaked under my kitchen floor tiles. I complained and asked for them to be fixed. ( now before you think i am truly nuts bear in mind they know full well about my ocd ) So they replace the several ruined tiles, and guess what? They are completely different tiles, they don't match! Not even close. Is that it ?? You're probably saying? To me this i the end of the world! I took great care of that kitchen floor. I scrub it by hand ( yes, on my hands and knees. ) And i polish it! Now every time i walk into my kitchen and see those horrible mismatched tiles, I gt this twitch in my eye that just will not go! And the big vein in the side of my head throbs like something the hulk would get. *sob*. They know what they are doing to me, and they just do not care! They say as long as the tiles have been replaced i will have to wait until they get new tiles in.

So now it's down to a battle of wills, them vs me! And I'm not moving dammit! I'll just have to avoid the kitchen won't i? Their tricks won't work on me-ha!

Random memory.

When we were in our teens, we spent most of our time hanging around the local bus stop. Drinking, smoking, swearing, and generally thinking we looked cool, while glowering at the neighbours. Thinking they were intimidated by us "hard nuts" ( where as in reality we were terrified they would call the cops on us, who would confiscate our cider :(
Today i found myself chuckling at a fond memory of these days!
So, in a bus stop, wearing our catalogue bought Levis we stood! One of the boys is kicking a piece of dried up dog crap that had gone white and crumbly. Lets call the boys Dai and Dean ( better not to use real names ) So Dai says " I always thought white dogs shit white and other dogs shit brown!" We stare, open mouthed and blinking in amazement. Alas he is serious, and Dean says " spotted dogs are fucked then aren't they Dai."

chapter 4

Charlie's eyes snapped open, consciousness flooding back as she felt Daniel shove his way inside her. "oh god, please, no more!" she prayed. He had taken her so often these last few days it felt as though he had pushed a red hot poker between her legs. Again and again he thrust into her, her naked flesh burning with the friction of the filthy mattress on her marred skin.
Before she had known it was him, she was able to lock herself away in her mind as he brutally possessed her body. Not now though, there was no escaping those hurt full eyes burning down into her. Brutally he would look down at her pain stricken face and use his hands to pinch her skin, like a spite full child. Grabbing at her breasts, twisting, biting her, leaving no expanse of skin unmarked. He pressed his face ever closer to hers, chuckling deep in his throat watching her thrash her head from side to side trying to escape the fat, warm drops of sweat that rolled off his face onto hers. All the while she screamed, cried, begged for respite as though being held in the very depths of hell itself.
A whole eternity had passed for charlie until he lay spent and panting on top of her. His head buried in her neck as she lay face tilted to the wall, as hot heavy tears left dirty tracks down her face. Her eyes flickered across the damp dusty cellar floor and fell at the foot of the rickety staircase, he had not locked the door at the top,she thought. Such a short distance to freedom, to Sam. A spark of hope began to flicker into life. The broken can she had hidden, dare she try and hurt him with it? Try and run? If only she could catch him off guard? Her body tensed as he began to stir he would kill her if she failed. But she decided right then that if death were her only escape, so be it! Quickly she slipped her hand under the mattress and felt for the cold metal. Her fingers brushed against it, she pulled her hand back quickly as he pushed himself up on his hands. She turned her face to his and his arrogance reassured her that her chance was now. She felt his flaccid penis slide out of her and he pushed himself back onto his knees, kneeling upright between her legs. Knowing she had seconds to act she felt as though her heart would explode through her chest, and as he turned his head to locate his clothes, she slipped her hand under the mattress. Gripping the jagged metal, with every ounce of strength she had left she brought her arm up in a wide arc, slashing at his 'precious' face. A red line began to spread across his cheek as the cut opened, and as he howled in rage, hand flying to his face. Charlie drew up her knees and kicked backwards with everything she had. Just managing to knock him back slightly, she threw herself onto her hands and knees, trying desperately to scrabble to her feet, flesh tearing on the concrete floor she had almost reached the bottom step when she felt a hand grab her ankle and yank her backwards. She tried to claw at him with her nails but they were cracked and broken. Writhing and bucking like a wild cat she tried desperately to shake loose his iron grip. Suddenly his face flashed into view and she saw the damage she had inflicted. A four inch long gash gaped open on his face. Without a moments hesitation she plunged her fingers inside the open wound. Fingers slippery with blood, probing, and tugging at the flap of skin, he bellowed in pain and anger releasing his hold on her momentarily. Hatred welled from deep within her and roaring with anger she slashed at him with the broken can still in her hand. The momentum was wrong or there wasn't enough force, because the jagged edge merely glanced off his skin. He lunged at her, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her to the ground. Sick with renewed fear she twisted her heads to find any exposed flesh and before he could wrestle it away from her she twisted round on her own hair and stuck the broken can into his scrotum and sawed back and forth as hard as she could. Something wet and warm trickled through her fingers as he screamed in agony. He released her as his hands flew to his groin, and she leapt to her feet and ran, the smell of blood and urine acrid in the air.