Well, that’s another psychiatric hospital stay under my belt. Last time I was in Newport, I had a great experience, with therapy and positive change.
This time, I was thrown on a ward with people screaming 24 hours a day. Zero therapy, and pretty much told to sit down, shut up, and we’ll let you out when we feel like it. Ignore the naked, screaming, schizophrenics. You’re just like them.
They also took me off my most successful psychiatric medicine, because according to my piece of shit doctor, it would make me eat more, and they can’t have that happening.
I am absolutely livid at my treatment. The nurses all tried to go to bat for me. At least four of them tried to talk to the doctor about moving me off that ward.
Last time, before I left, they kept offering me after care treatment. A day CBT program, and the like.
This time, nothing.
I’m pretty sure my treatment was punitive.
I don’t have words for my anger at this point.
The only good thing is that my anger burned off the depression and Suicideial ideations.
I haven’t been updating this, because it would all be about me moping every month, because I got my period.
Now, I’ve always been clockwork when it comes to my cycles. I never miss a period, stress does not affect my cycle. Five days ago, I was out shopping with my husband-type-person, and remarked how I needed to stock up on chocolate, as my period would be coming soon.
So, when I was three days late this month, I allowed myself to have a glimmer of hope. Took a pregnancy test yesterday, and got an error message. Took one this morning, and it came up negative.
Yet, I’m still not bleeding.
I guess I wait another five days, and if I’m not on my period by then, I take another test.
This is maddening.
I guess the good thing is I can drink on Christmas.
I’m going to go and put on some Concrete Blonde and try to put my feelings into some semblance of order.
I was almost positive we clicked this month. I was due to get my period tomorrow, and was ready to go and send Jeromy out to get me a pregnancy test.
Then I woke up this morning to cramps bad enough to bring tears to my eyes, and a red mess.
Maybe this is just not meant to be. People keep trying to encourage me, but if this was going to happen, it would have happened by now!
It’s a cold, rainy, miserable day. It fits my mood perfectly. I’m a miserable, cold, mess.
Started my period today, about four days early.
I’m going to give it another month or two before I really start freaking out.
I’ve been told that undergoing weight loss surgery will increase my fertility, but I’ve got so little time to get pregnant in, I’m not sure there’s enough time for me to get approved for surgery, and heal, before my biological clock decides it’s time to close up shop.
I know everything happens for a reason, and in its own time, but I find myself getting very angry at me, and the choices I made when I was younger.
Especially giving almost 10 years to someone who…
Shit. I don’t even have words to describe Le’Daniel any more.
There’s a lot of anger left, but it couldn’t have been easy to put up with an unmedicated crazy woman.
Now, I can say I’m bi-polar, major depressive, generalized anxiety, PTSD…
Then, I just thought this was my version of normal.
I go through stages where I want to apologize to everyone in my life, for having to put up with my crazy ass.
I guess today is an apology day.
First month of trying was a bust.
I’m really not surprised at this fact, but the normal crankiness at being on the rag is amplified.
Normally I dislike period day, because it starts a week of mess, cramps, and hormones.
Now, it also represents my body’s failure to get with the program.
I think if I wasn’t so damn old, I would be less disappointed. 35 is old to be birthing babies, Miss. Daisy.
I’m worried that now I’m too damn old to do it.
Yes, I had my fertility checked with my OBGYN, it’s making eggs and the like, just fine. I’m just feeling very old, and slightly overwhelmed.
Come on body, get with the program, before we really are too old to do this.
Since I made the decision to start this whole baby thing, and go off my psych meds to facilitate this, I thought I was going through a miserable case of detox.
Nauseous, not sleeping, generally feeling sickly and miserable.
I thought I was coming off my meds too fast, and was going to need to go back to the hospital.
I woke up this morning around 4am, my eyes were blurry, and I kept getting flashes of blue light when I opened and closed my eyes. I sat with my cell phone in my hands for about 10 minutes, trying to see if I was hallucinating, or going blind, or something else horrible.
Finally – after feeling like crap and being scared for a week, I took one of my migraine meds.
. . .
Yeah. Watched a documentary on PBS, while I waited for the meds to work – and now I feel fine.
THANK YOU WEEK LONG MIGRAINE.
I have decided that embonpoint (sexy stoutness) is my new favorite word.
I discovered this word while clenching my teeth, laying on my heating pad, and using my phone as a distraction.
I don’t know what happened. I came home from an afternoon with my mother, checked to make sure that Jeromy was still breathing at the computer, and went to join the kitty committee in the bedroom to read.
Flopping on my belly, I noticed my lower back was really starting to hurt. I tried twisting to crack it, but nada.
Okay. Pain is turning into cramping that’s making me nauseous.
Time to take a pain pill, pull out the heating pad and pray to not vomit.
An hour later, I was right as rain.
I’ve had this happen a few times before, and I think it’s something that happens as I ovulate. I keep track of my periods, but even with the little handy app on my phone, I’m still pretty shit at it.
Had some old blood discharge today, and I’m hoping that’s just from the IUD removal.