Life is hard. I know; this isn't exactly "news", but still. Life is hard. And if you looked at my life from the outside, in, you would wonder what on earth I have to complain about. I have a good marriage to a great guy. I have a good kid, a great home, steady work and lovely friends. Trust me. None of this is lost on me, I promise. But, well, life is hard. And I have felt it getting harder and harder lately. Closing in.
I'm finding everything difficult right now. I'm feeling overwhelmed and tired of the difficulty. I've been wanting help, needing help and not knowing how to get it. On top of not wanting to say anything because my problems don't seem like problems, really. Push came to shove a couple of weeks ago and I found myself making a quick doctor's appointment over something I believed was unrelated. Before I went in, Isaac told me to mention ALL of my symptoms to her - including the crushing helplessness I had been feeling and my erratic moods and, well, everything. So I did.
I LOVE my doctor. She's been my doctor since I had a cyst burst on my ovary right after Isaac and I were married. She's cut me open and held my uterus, literally, in her hands. I was so happy when we moved back that I realized I would be considered a previous (albeit 10 year lapsed!) patient and could get into her now that she was popular. And I love her even more now that she listened to my crazy rant and didn't laugh. Or belittle. Or question me when I told her I very seriously asked Isaac to commit me to an asylum a couple of months ago...What she DID do, though, was to tell me, very gently, that I was starting peri-menopause (I'm 38, people!) and that all of my symptoms - even the crazy ones - could be explained away by that. She did some tests, took some blood (which Sammy thought cool until it actually started squirting into the vial...then not so much) and promised me I'd live. With one condition. That I go to a therapist and work through my anxiety and ask about a mood stabilizing something to get me through the next few years of hormonal craziness. Because, oh. Apparently it's craziness, my friends. I don't have any womanly role models, here, since the women in my family all lack woman parts. I'm blazing the trail, here. And not loving it.
Though I'm a little happy to know my crazy was real crazy and not just me crazy. Because man. I was LOSING it.
(so hard, pet shop boys)