Sunday, April 21, 2013

Fertility Doctor... Tomorrow.

The other day I wrote a post about all of my current frustrations.

Today I am writing about my anxiety.

I had been in a pretty good place for a few months. Sure I'd freak out every now and then about stuff, but I was doing a good job about not letting stuff that I can't control bother.

I even faced my social anxiety problems and started going back to church. And the one I go to has a meet and greet during service. The first time I was there, I wanted to run--far, far away. Or hide in the bathroom...

Point is, I was managing, not worrying about people who were whispering in my general direction. (As a side note, if I am near you and you are whispering about something and occasionally look in my direction, I fear you are talking about me or making fun of me or something. Then I panic. And while I know that this makes me seem very narcissistic, I've heard it happen.)

I think the trigger was my post-op appointment (I know I still haven't done all the writing I wanted to do...). I've put all of this fertility stuff into a shoe box to contain my what if scenarios that I fully believed would come true. And while yes, the surgeon ended up having "a lot of work to do", he also said he believes that I should be able to conceive naturally. And none of the biopsies of tissues came back positive. Not even the polyp that was in my uterus. Not even that.

That, plus a docked paycheck (thanks CISD... Why did you wait 2 paychecks to dock me???), the very real possibility of having less income next year( yay! shrinking paycheck), stress from home-owners insurance shopping, trying to figure out where all the stuff I need for this school year will come from, and the desire for more puppies/babies really will do a girl in.

So I freaked out on Michael yesterday. Mainly because he's home and in the firing line. Eventually, meaning several hours later, I calmed down from a bout that started because there was what I considered to be a huge spider in the bedroom, very near me, I screamed and texted him for help, he didn't hear me or get the message.

It's almost time to break the glass on the emergency lone Xanax I guess.

Anxiety is awesome.

(I fully realize and understand that I probably just need to go see my doctor and get back on my maintenance meds...)

---Jessica G.

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