I have been quite a groupie for some time now, The Band. I've been dutifully reading, drawing strength, and learning to forgo judgment in light of acceptance and perseverance from all of you fine people.
I've yet to have the courage to post.
Until now.
I'm historically horrendous at talking to anyone about anything, but that's something all of you have helped me with as well so cheers to my debut.

I plan on becoming a regular contributor if you'll have me, so hopefully we'll get plenty of time to chat about what I mean by a "rough couple of years" (cue illness, surgery, anxiety, ya know, the usual).
Trying to drum up a post the last few weeks I have mostly come up with harrowing, hard to talk about tales and couldn't settle on how I wanted to introduce myself.
Until today.
It goes without saying that anyone who has trouble talking, being open and honest is going to have trouble dating. Within this past year, in addition to many other things, I decided to say "fuck you" to making excuses about why the boy I like isn't a good idea. This boy's great and I knew it and instead of bailing out I went for it, albeit kicking and screaming at times (not literally, I'm too passive for my own good).
Today we were talking about a medical issue I've just been dealing with for too long, mainly because it's taken a backseat to more urgent issues.
I was fifteen when I started bleeding uncontrollably every month. It wasn't always that way, then one day it was and it never got any better. Every once in a while it got a bit worse and I've been relegated to birth control pills from the age of seventeen (I'm twenty-two now).
I've never had much success with pills. I've tried at least five different kinds and multiple different doses with minimal results so I went back to the gynecologist again this year and asked about trying something else. Other than the regular pap tests and annual exams, I haven't seen a doctor who has decided to check any further into this issue. I went back to my usual practice, saw yet another doctor and he ordered a transvaginal ultrasound.
I'm terrified.
I don't know why.
I've had lots of unpleasant, lengthy, even painful procedures and I'm still terrified by this. I don't want to do it. I will, of course I will, but I really don't want to and I really do not want to drink 32 ounces of liquid, HOLD IT IN (I have an impossibly small bladder) and get that ultrasound done, but I will.
I was chatting with the boy today about how I really need to schedule my ultrasound. Since last April I've been on several long courses of antibiotics (and all the fun side effects that take place) while dealing with my ever-so-lovely dislocating shoulder and of course, the ever-present menstrual issues.
I promise, we'll get into all of it as time passes.
The boy has always been there, unwavering. I'm not used to this support but his comment today is what inspired my posting. I'm really, finally, letting someone in. When talking about a semi-invasive medical procedure, he offered to go with me so I made a joke. I told him he can't make me laugh while we're waiting and I have a massively full bladder.
He responded with "I won't. I'll even drink 32 ounces and not pee with you." Things have really sucked and been pretty hard but you know what? Because of this, I have someone to drink 32 ounces of liquid and squirm uncomfortably with in the waiting room.
I'm choosing to take the slightly humorous point of view through this and I've got nothing but thanks to give to all of the Bandmates for this.
Your overwhelming courage to share all of your stories has given me the confidence to find a bit of happiness in letting someone else in.
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