Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Let's Get Surious (spelled that way in reference to the way it is pronounced, not Suri Cruise)

First, let me start with a warning.  This post is going to talk about lady stuff.  So if you uncomfortable with that subject, don't read it.  Also, it is going to be pretty personal.  Why post it on a public forum like a blog, or facebook you ask.  Well, I've never been much for modesty.  As most of you know, I'll pretty much tell anyone anything about myself.  But, I want to write this as a sort of apology to my family and close friends, and maybe some random person will read it and get something out of it.  Finally, it is a lot heavier then anything I usually write, because while I like to think of myself as easy-going and laid back, sometimes life does get serious...Now, to get to it...

In September I had a hysterectomy because of endometriosis.  It was a full hysterectomy, and there is a fancy word for that, but I opted for the whole shebang because I (with Travis) knew I didn't want any more kids and my ovaries were being douche bags along with my uterus.  My doctor warned me about early menopause, women in my family shared their experiences, and of course I consulted the Google - but really, the decision was an easy one.  I took a week off from work, got some hormone replacement pills and that was that.

September, October, November, and December were filled with holidays, Gavin's first months of preschool, crazy overtime at work, and a new childcare situation.  I really didn't have time to think about how the hysterectomy was affecting my life.  In January, things started to settle down, and I noticed some changes.  Now, while I am an open book about some things, I'll just leave this part to your imagination (or knowledge, because if we've talked in person, I've probably told you).  I started making what seemed like weekly trips to the doctor due to the health issues.  I started snapping at my kids.  I started to care about whether the kitchen was clean or not...and when I say care, I mean obsess.  I would get anxious about how Gavin was doing in preschool and how Lucas was doing in daycare, convinced that there was something that I should be doing that I wasn't.  I would complain all the time about gaining weight and get PISSED when Trav suggested that I not order pizza for dinner.  Everything made me cry (of course, this isn't really anything new, but still...).  And while this was going on, I was aware of it.  What I mean is, it's like this...

There is this pool and everyone is swimming around...I guess the pool is life?  It's an analogy, just work with me.  So everyone is swimming, but for some reason, you're underwater.  You can breathe under there, I mean, you are surviving, but obviously, you're underwater - everything is a little distorted.  You can't see or hear as well as other people, and you're isolated since everyone else is at the top.  Now, sometimes you tread water really really hard and you make it up to the top and you see how everyone else is getting on, and you think, "I can do this, I can stay up here and swim", but then something happens, like someone says something that for some reason just sets you off, or splashes you (I don't know, still trying to go with the pool example) and you can't tread water anymore.  You can't swim with everyone else, and this is both frustrating and acceptable, because on one hand, of course you want to swim with everyone else and not be underneath the water where it's darker and of course you want to swim with your family and your kids and not have them wonder if you're going to sink at any minute, but on the other hand, screw them, they don't know what you're going through, and who's to say a person is supposed to swim at the top?

So, since January, I've been alternating between treading water and sinking.  I've dealt with depression in the past, both in high school and then after having my kids - but this has been something different.  It was/is less sadness and more anxiousness.  And also quickness to anger.  That was the weirdest part to deal with, because most of the time I knew I was being irrational, but I just couldn't help it.  There are a lot of things I wish I could take back concerning my kids.  I never physically lashed out, but I yelled or was sharp with them enough that I started to worry that they would always see me that way - like, we can't do anything because mommy gets mad about everything.  I'm sorry for being short with my family, or isolating myself because I just couldn't pretend like everything was peachy keen when it wasn't.  And I'm sorry to Travis most of all, because he is the only one who not only had to deal with me, but had to deal with me trying to deal with everything else, if that makes sense.
I'm writing this blog now because I think I'm starting to see the end of the tunnel with this little phase in my life.  I started to accept that my body is taking it's sweet ass time getting back to normal after the hysterectomy.  I also accepted that no doctor could tell me exactly what I needed to do, since everyone is different and requires different hormone levels.  I guess I'm ok with the fact that I have been forced to buy a flippin' old lady MTWTF pill-holder.  I don't regret the surgery, but while some people ('sup Shar) told me it would take awhile to get back to normal, I had no idea what I was in for.  Pardon the language, but just to be clear, hormones are fucking serious.  I'm finally starting to feel like myself again, though, and I just wanted to say to anyone dealing with anything like this, or depression, or whatever - and by dealing with it I mean trying to figure it out and "get better" - it just takes time and you can make it to the other side.

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