PickledLeprechauns

There are times when I just stop and revel in the fact that I finally fixed my boobs. I’ve wanted this for about half of my life, but it was always out of reach. Not only did I not ever expect to be able to pay for it myself, but I also sabotaged myself because getting them fixed would leave me with one less excuse for not being everything I want to be, y’know?

I kept thinking “maybe I should lose all the extra weight first…” but it was just me making excuses. That’s why, once I found the right surgeon, I set up the date and didn’t look back. I can’t believe how amazing the experience has been. I only took the pain meds for the first couple days as a preventive measure, but I had no pain whatsoever, just boredom from lying around all the time. I couldn’t sleep and I kept getting up and walking around my house out of desperation.

My inability to keep myself in bed and the fact that my skin is too thin caused the junction of the inverted-T incision on my right breast to open up. That was the only painful thing about the surgery. It was very persistent, too, and only healed once I figured out that I’m allergic to antibiotic ointment and stopped using it.

The scars turned out WAY better than I expected and would be even less noticeable if I didn’t have leftover areola where it shouldn’t be. Curse my skin!

I am so ridiculously glad that I had the surgery; it has made me incredibly confident in my body and myself while also making my life easier.

My sister and I did a two mile speed run the other day. Considering she started about three weeks ago and I’m a fatass, an eleven minute pace is pretty good. (I usually average about 12 minutes when I run alone and probably slower when I run with her.) Last night, I did a two mile speed run myself and did just over 10 minute miles. We’re working on it.

It’s hard to put a focus on running better/faster/longer when there’s always the concern for my body parts in the back of my mind. I started taking glucosamine/chondroitin supplements to try to stave off injuries. Blah blah blah. I’m getting faster.

This past summer, I wore a bikini for the first time EVER. Admittedly, I do not have a bikini body, but I’ve got bikini boobs and legs, so fuck it. ;)

Anyway, the summer was extremely kind to my skin…and so was I; my scarring faded a lot and I wasn’t picking or even breaking out very much.

But alas, with the dissipation of the lovely weather, my skin has gone to shit. With the amount of stress I’m currently under and the number of things I have to do that I don’t really want to do, skin picking is one of my escapes. It’s still looking better than it did before this summer, though, so I’m happy.