volume fifty-seven

I guess it is on my mind

On March 14th, 2020, I jumped on a plane headed for Montreal — a fresh start, a new home, a new job — was as far as I had planned.

Aside from all of the disastrously, heartbreakingly obvious, there were a few minor and very-not-important things that came up in those first few weeks of lockdown living: I needed a haircut, badly, and had previously decided that because I was so busy getting ready to move across the country I would do so on the other side — it was left for months of course. My brand-new-job-manicure was seen by only me — I never stepped foot in the office. I was due to get my next injection of my birth control in the next couple of weeks and well, you guessed it, I couldn’t due to the already awful health and medical care in Montreal put under extreme strain on account of a global pandemic.

I thought what the heck? For the fact that I am isolated in a city where I know no one, I don’t speak the language, not to mention the threat of death keeping me inside, I am not going to need birth control. As the months went on, thankfully nothing serious medical-wise came up for me, but the side effects of going off the birth control I had been on for many years began to unfurl.

At one point, after weeks of trying to make a doctors appointment in tears every day refreshing at 4pm (the time when all appointments opened up for the city in their online system) and there being none, I managed to get a phone appointment where I had to describe a pretty awkward situation of what was going on between my legs, in great detail, with lots of questions, over the phone with the only doctor that could speak English with me. I am so grateful for that doctor.

Slowly more cracks began to show after a body that was used to being on a certain rhythm for many years tried to adjust. A rhythm it was assigned in the first place because my menstrual cycle was a nightmare and this would regulate it and eventually stop it. It then too of course became a convenient form of fulfilling my dream of not becoming a mother. Being alone, I was keeping the not becoming a mother dream alive and well, but the rest was rearing its ugly head.

First returned were the cramps. Evil. Insistent. Long. I was back in the past, lying in the foetal position with a hot water bottle wishing it away. Literally. Muttering the words “please, please, please, please” through tears and a clenched body with every wave. Sleepless nights meant long days, which meant less patience, which meant everything was feeling so fucking hard. Not to mention the fact that everything really did just feel so hard at that time in the world for everyone. I lost count of how many zoom meetings I was sitting there for, smiling, when out of frame, I was wiggling my toes through waves of nausea and pain while adjusting the hot water bottle and massaging my belly. One month I said “fuck this” and went camera off for meetings for the three or so days that were the worst. Still present. Still there. Just able to contort my body in a less painful position while I attended. My boss later asked a co-worker to ask me why I wasn’t on camera for meetings as this was frowned upon.

when you are very alone for the first time in your life, you take a lot of selfies and it just so happens I have one from the first day my cramps returned and I spent several hours in this position doing cat and cow over and over

Then my tender breasts returned with a vengeance. I never remembered it being this bad before. Putting on a shirt some days would cause sensitivity and pain. Again, sleeping sometimes was near impossible unless I managed to find some solution to not putting any weight on them. Sleeping meant letting gravity carry them to my sides and be squashed no matter what position I lay in.

Eventually, my menstrual cycle returned. The same as it had been before I turned to science to help me out. The pain was one thing, the inconvenience another. Sometimes there would be a two-month gap, others there would be a gap of just a few days. Sometimes I would feel like it was day one of my period for a week straight, and then it felt like day two for another few more weeks. Sometimes it would return, barely there, for a day or two. Finally, it got back to its beat, after over a year. After over a year of still trying and failing to see a doctor.

It was around eight months after I had gone off this birth control I started to get breakouts. Small at first, something I attributed to wearing masks due to where they were on my face and when they seemed to pop up (after my weekly errand run). I mixed up the masks I had been using for different fabrics which according to the internet were better for your skin. I became even more meticulous in my skincare routine than ever before (skincare is my favourite hobby). They persisted. Months went by and I had full-blown cystic acne. Painful to smile. Painful to touch, even when doing something as gentle as washing my face with a warm washcloth or, you guessed it, trying to sleep. Every time I cleansed my face no matter how careful I was, it would bleed in numerous places. If I went out in the extreme Montreal cold for too long, my skin would crack and cause more bleeding. I had long given up wearing makeup, I had spent hundreds of dollars on a new skincare line after consulting with a skincare expert in order to try and fix the problem. At this point, I was starting to think maybe it was hormonal, but it wasn’t my first thought as this started happening so long after going off my birth control. I thought it was the masks, I thought it was my diet, I thought it was my skincare routine — changing these all up changed nothing.

lauren feat. tissue on face

I remember being out for my first social gathering in I don’t know how long. Double masked, thanks to the pandemic, feeling my skin be more irritated by the minute and feeling it getting bothered being unable to breathe. And finally, on this day, after over a year of trying, I managed to speak to a doctor over the phone who called an hour earlier than scheduled and left me a voice mail threatening to cancel my appointment if I didn’t call back in five minutes. I called back in tears, whilst standing on a bridge and overlooking the otters in the biodome, I begged for help. I told her all about my skin, but with limited time and knowledge never made it to all the other pain I was in, in much detail. She rushed me off the phone — I can only imagine how busy she was and how many other desperate people were awaiting their call, likely with far more important issues that needed care — and gave me an email to send her photos of my face to and a referral for the “other pain I was in” — I won’t go into it but let's say I never made it to that appointment because there was never an appointment available. On seeing the pictures I was prescribed a cream. The cream seemed to ease the breakouts somewhat but as soon as I was done, they got angry again. And I couldn’t get a hold of another doctor as hard as I tried to get another prescription. So I lived with all of these things going on.

For over two years, once a month, I lost sleep and was unable to catch up on work and shed tears due to the pain I was in. My face bled every night, I stained washcloths and pillows and continued to go make-up free and spend time and care on what I put in my body and on my face.

People made comments about my face — obvious ones, that hurt my feelings — strangers and people I know well. I lost all confidence and as someone who prides herself on not letting my looks define me, I lost all of the will to believe I was worthy of respect or love when I couldn’t even take care of myself well enough to keep my face under control. That is wild to think now, but this was all in combination with the world being a mess, my mental health being a mess, my life being a mess, and an all-around feeling of being lost in life every time I looked in the mirror that somehow this was my fault. I was doing something to cause this, otherwise, surely it would have been taken more seriously, no?

One month ago, after three months of living in Vancouver again, my healthcare kicked in. Within thirty minutes I was back on my birth control, got some much-needed and much overdue tests I had been waiting so long for, got the right treatment for various medical things I need to feel safe and healthy and got medication for my acne. I found a doctor, a five-minute walk from my house, who for the first time in my life, asked if I am sexually active with men or not before talking to me about birth control. For the first time, I had not been assumed as anything.

As my skin begins to return to its natural glow, I am returning to mine too. It is ridiculous that I allowed so much weight to be put on my appearance, but to me, it was more than just how I looked and it was inescapable. I have already skipped what should have been the few days of the month I am in so much pain that I am incapable of living out my day-to-day. I have a face that allows me to smile without pain, and there is so much to smile about. I have access to a lifestyle that allows me to safely pursue sexual activity with comfort and ease.

nothing to stress about except who served the better ice cream

Not everyone is this lucky and I will never take it for granted again. I wish I had a better way to tie up the volume this week. I lay awake every night this week trying to think of a different subject or a way to bring this one around to a conclusion less absorbed in myself. I kept coming back to why I wanted to write about this in the first place, and that is the extreme gratitude I feel now.

When has birth control been crucial for you? Why is access to it for anyone who needs it, for any of its wonderful uses, important to you?

here are three things I struggled with this week:

😟 How do you make Mondays less hectic? Even as a freelancer who chooses what she works on I am stressed to the max every Monday.

💡 Learning something new has been challenging. I am so appreciative of the extra knowledge and income as someone goes away for vacation and I cover them on something different than what I usually work on, but it is shifting gears and I am not used to not knowing exactly what I am doing. Thinking about the list I wrote you on Monday and reminding myself I don’t have to get it right the first time.

💗 Writing this volume. It feels incomplete. It feels messy. It feels like I never made it to where I wanted to but I am not sure where that was. Grateful — for science, doctors, healthcare — and you.

here are three blessings from this week:

🌅 I finally went on and tackled my DMs and deleted my Instagram. One morning this week, as I sat and wrote, I looked up to see the most epic sunrise — watermelon pink clouds that rippled like the top of a cauliflower floated across the sky above the mountains which looked black in comparison to the luminous sky. I didn’t take a photo, I just sat and wrote, looking up every so often to see how she had changed as the clouds rolled and the sun rose.

🐈‍⬛ Cute cat company all week.

🏠 Home.

here are three goals for the coming week:

🦫 Put my feelers out for another part-time remote job so I can begin to slowly step back from the restaurant — at least the night shifts — which are not serving my sobriety. I am grateful this week for two pet sitting gigs that came my way that bought me some time and an upcoming one-off contract that has, too. But I will need a permanent solution soon.

✍️ That exciting writing project I wrote the first lines for recently? I would love to make time to write some more.

🦩 Make the most of the summer weather, especially in the evenings. I have been good at stepping away from the (work) screen and finding outdoor places to dance, watch movies, go for walks, experience art and eat. I love August.

here is something I enjoyed this week: 

JOIN MY PYRAMID SCHEME! (this is not an ad)

Just kidding. But I joke all the time it is the best pyramid scheme ever. A lot of you often ask about how I am able to travel so much and the answer is because of Trusted Housesitters. Do you know how I am always housesitting, travelling, and spending time with adorable animals? This link will get you a 25% discount on your membership by being referred by me. It also grants me 2 months of free membership, too, for transparency. That is why I call this a pyramid scheme because if enough of you join I will never pay again and then you’ll invite your friends and you’ll never pay again and then they’ll invite their friends…I have no regrets and it is the best thing I have ever done. I continue to see so much of the world with cute animals by my side.

pics or it didn’t happen:

in good company

cat says “no more work today, please”

I love you,

LD

xoxo

hi, lauren deborah! is free for subscribers every week. feel I am not sharing enough? ask me a question and I will answer it in a future post.

if you would like to say thanks for this love letter, please like or comment (it means so much to me to hear from you 🧡), forward it to a friend who might enjoy it or if you’d like to, you can buy me a slice 🍕