The State of the Body
Because several friends called/texted this weekend about the state of my body, I’m going to give some updates and appreciate them.
So… my sleep quality has been very poor since T-dog died. Simultaneously my anxiety spiraled out of control. I got R-dog in February and my anxiety has eased off (though it’s still pushing the boundaries), but my sleep has not improved.
This means that I am severely sleep deprived as I haven’t gone into deep sleep for a sustained period in over six months. It’s starting to affect… well… everything. This week I’ve started having visual hallucinations.
Now, because Hollywood and acid trips are stupid – most people think visual hallucinations are all talking camels and pink elephants and Donovan music. They’re not always like that. What happens to me when my bipolar gets really bad, or when I’m getting severe sleep deprivation (like now), is I’ll see movement out of the corner of my eye (that isn’t there). Or I’ll see someone standing near me in my peripheral vision, but when I turn and look, there’s no one there. It’s not horror-movie scary like it might sound, but it makes me startle… I jerk to see what is moving, or who came up beside me… and it’s nothing and nobody. But my brain, even knowing that it’s happening, jerks every time. In my chiropractor’s office today, I literally was lying on an exam table in an empty office, and jerked to see a movement to my right 26 times… Even though I damn well knew that nothing had moved… something kept moving and I kept looking for it.
It’s most disturbing when I’m driving, because I’ll process it as something coming at me – another car, an animal running into the street, a child… That is nerve-wracking. I jerk at intersections and changing lanes because I think I saw a car there that wasn’t there a second ago. (And isn’t there now, except for that moment in my brain.)
On top of this awesomeness, six weeks ago, my period started. It acted weird. No cramps (yay?), no super heavy bleeding days (yay?), but then it lasted for two weeks (um…?) I figured maybe since I didn’t bleed as heavy as I normally do, it just took longer to shed all my endometrial lining. Sure… Logic. Everything is just fine! My normal periods last 8 to 10 days (which is super long), and are super heavy… And always have been. So… it seemed at least in the realm of possibility that this was… sort of… okay/normal?
Then I spotted for eight days. That’s such a stupid pain in the ass. Like… I just put up with having a fucking period, and now you can’t even give me my time off! Seriously! That time off is the only way I’m okay with being a woman! Fuck you, universe!
After eight days, my period started again. Double fuck you, universe!
That was 17 days ago.
Today I bled through three super tampons in an hour.
Fuck super tampons. (But, yay! I can actually put in and remove tampons now without crying from the pain! It took ten years of treatment and the result is… I can wear tampons… Sort of. Great.)
Sir is completely freaked out about the bleeding. I’m just fucking exhausted. I can’t sleep AND my body has to go Ooompa Loompa on blood production? There’re no fucking resources for this! Who’s in charge of this shit??
So, we all hit a crisis point last night. Sir freaking out and trying to force me to go to a gynecology appointment (I have an appointment in three weeks – best I could get with the doctor I actually trust enough I MIGHT make it through an exam without a subsequent suicide attempt…) with a stranger. He thought I needed to go to the ER and get checked.
I told him to fuck himself.
Not quite. But that was definitely the subtitle…
He said I’m dragging you there no matter what (not quite, but, subtitles…)
I told him I’d kill myself (and I meant it).
He called my therapist.
There was much screaming and gnashing of teeth.
I emailed my doctor and said I needed help and wouldn’t make it three weeks. He emailed back something to help me sleep, and blood test orders for my hormones (no exam necessary), and a “It’s okay to wait three weeks (you won’t die), but take this other stuff in the meantime to get shit calmed down on the hormone front.”
And Sir, grudgingly, has agreed not to drag me to the ER and cause my death.
You May Also Like
