My most recent demon…

I was recently asked a question. This question caused thoughts, wicked thoughts.

“When are you having your next one?”


I died inside. I want another child, so bad. But, I’ve been told it will be difficult for me to conceive again. I was diagnosed with PCOS two years ago. Polycystical ovarian syndrome.


Multiple cysts that cover the ovary’s. Super right? Blah… one of those cysts turned into a mass. That mass was double the size of my right ovary… so like any doctor would suggest… unilateral oophorectomy. Only one was removed, but it doesn’t make it any easier to conceive.



My daughter wants a sister… or brother. She never understands how much it hurts me when she asks.

I hate this curse that is mine to carry. It is the one and only demon that I have yet to conquer. I don’t see it happening in the near future….

But they say it’s not impossible to conceive…. difficult. But not impossible.


I’ve heard stories… of multiple miscarriages, false positives due to hormones. It all sounds horrible.

PCOS in and of itself is horrible. I can’t lose weight, my cycle was so out of whack that I just wound up getting an IUD. I was already dealing with mental illness, but I’m sure the hormonal psychosis in my body didn’t help. Back to the weight… that in and of itself is its own demon. The PCOS is its sidekick. I’ve always been bigger, since age 12. Bigger and bigger, but never really smaller. I mean, I’ll lose 23 pounds. But you best believe it doesn’t stay away long, and when it does come back? It brings friends! Super, right? No. Not for someone like me who already has really bad body image issues.


My demon tortures me, and breaks me. It is unforgiving and two faced as hell. I worry for the future…. but I can say I’m trying to fight it. That I am trying to stand up and go for what I want. All I can do…. right?


Until next time I suppose….


I have concurred my demon! It finally took a weight of 237 pounds to get me to the right doc that did the right tests and prescribed the right meds. 6 months after my diagnosis, I now bounce between 196 and 206. Along with the official diagnosis of PCOS I was also diagnosed with hyper insulinemia. Meaning… my accelerated weight gain was caused by my insulin levels being in the 50’s. Normal for a woman my age is around 25. Crazy right? I still fight it occasionally but I’ve concurred it none the less.



So, my little Bugg has a Chalazion just under her left eye in the corner.



Started out as a hordeolum, then…. graduated! Not painful, though you would think that it would be with how purple it gets… We went back to the eye “specialist” as we tell Bugg. She’s really a surgeon. She said it could take up to 6 months to go away. 6 months!

Well, me being the mama that I am, and tired of getting asked if I punch/hit my kid when the damn thing has given her another famous shiner, opted to have the thing lanced and drained. So, it is surgery, very minor… but all the same. They will put her under, and as mom, I feel my baby should wake up to me next to her.

Thus… I am postponed temporarily.

Btw… it is really HOT out. Yup…. love the great state of Colorado. Lol.

Giving this a try…again…

Been a while since I’ve done any blogging what so ever, So…I suppose I’ll start it out like this…

My name is unimportant. I don’t identify by it most of the time anyways. Friends call me Squeeks, MiNX, or Gypsy. I am a single mother living in Denver, Colorado. No, I don’t snowboard. No, I don’t smoke pot. I lead a pretty dull life.

Wake up. Get ready. Meds. Get my daughter ready. Breakfast. See my daughter off. Facebook. And YouTube. Check on Grandma. More Meds. Sleep, because my lovely insomnia seems to think I am still in college. Hey! More meds! Go get my Daughter. Help with homework, while making dinner. Get my daughter bathed and ready for bed. Get myself ready for bed. Meds. Then lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

Same routine. Everyday. Only difference on the weekend is no school, and I might get to spend time with my boyfriend.

Ah, the meds. I am “1 in 4” as Ruby Wax says. Since I was 13 I have fought the seemingly never ending battle that comes hand in hand with mental illness. I’m 29 now. Now, while I will admit that it does get tiring at times, it also keeps me on my toes. There is never really a dull moment in my world. So I guess there’s a lot of assumptions about mental illness….. I can only hope that I am none of them.

My mother is one of the “1 and 4” as well, so being as she has more experience with this particular subject manner I tend to look to her rather often for advice. I’d like think that I am rather level headed in my insanity. I live a rather normal life. Only downer is that even on the meds, my moods are sporadic as all get out. I will sometimes find myself wanting to cry for no reason. Or I’ll get really mad about petty things. I don’t like to be cornered, or when people walk behind me. I find it easier to just sit in a corner or against a wall. I’m paranoid of the city. Paranoid of most people even…. ok, so maybe I’m not as super normal as I thought.

I have a 6 year old. She’ll be 7 in February. We live in a house of crazy. Ha! Four generations, all women, and all under the same roof. It’s nice to have family…most of the time. The rest of the time it feels like I’ve been drug to TV Land and I’m a guest on ‘The Golden Girls.’ Only difference is our version is “The Golden Girls on DRUGS.” It’s different… I’ll give it that much.

I’m going to try to keep up on this for as long as I can. So…. if you read, awesome. If not…. awesome. ^_^