Peek-a-boo

Today I’m mourning the loss of something I never even had.

I spent the past week experiencing some early pregnancy symptoms and convinced myself we’d managed to conceive. Waves of nausea cursed through my body, my sense of smell heightened and made me feel like superwoman, whilst my mouth held the remanents of old coins and my breasts felt sore and swollen.

My heart raced at the thought of new life being made and I allowed myself to get excited. I bought a pregnancy test, eager to use it and confirm my suspicions.

My feelings of elation and motherhood were short lived when the test gave me negatives.. again, I told myself I was testing too early. I told my partner of my suspicions and we both marvelled at the prospect of our new future, as a 3!

Last night all my positivity was drained when I experienced contractions, period cramps and a general unwell feeling came over me. I took myself to bed and let my body continue to break down while I slept, expecting my period to arrive upon waking.

Sex with my partner soon brought with it pink stained toilet paper that soon turned to bright red. My period, as planned was on its way. My heart broken at the sight of the evidence.

I keep reminding myself that we can try again but I feel so much sorrow for what I thought I had. I’ve never in my life experienced symptoms like this.. perhaps it was imagened symptoms, but they felt so real to me. I started to think that maybe these fibroids wouldn’t give me any issues after all. Who knows. One thing I know for sure is that we both want this this badly and we both deserve it. We are now officially trying to conceive

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I got carried away

In all the excitement of the football, my 2 year anniversary and the UK having more than a week of constant sunshine, I slipped up and started drinking again.

I’ve probably only had the equivalent of 2 bottles of wine in a period of one week, but boy, can I feel the difference.

My period was not long ago, so I’ve been in ovulation phase this week and I’ve been awful. I’ve hardly slept, I’ve been feeling anxious, low, irritable, my body has been aching. I’ve felt paranoid my bf doesn’t love me anymore and I’ve felt all clingy and needy.

I think I honestly forgot how significant all the coping strategies I’d put in place were to keeping me on an even keel. I’ve still taken my supplements but I guess the alcohol just cancels them right out.

It feels hard and sad to accept that I’ll be living an alcohol free life, for the foreseeable future. But, I’d much rather this than the self destructive life I’ve been living for the past 20 odd years.

PMDD sucks!

That’s what’s up

Ever since I had my bi polar meltdown, I’ve been wondering what the hell is wrong with me. My bf asked me to leave the house for a few days and go spend time with my family. I was devastated as I was sure he wouldn’t be home when I returned but he was.

The whole thing was sort of brushed under the carpet until I had another mental episode a short time after.

I honestly just felt despair. I woke up one morning and just felt angry and irritated. I warned my bf not to wind me up as I just wasn’t feeling ‘jokey’.. He went into shut down mode and that’s what set me off.

I was so irate I just exploded. A huge argument ensued and he told me he didn’t want us to have kids with me being like this. I was heartbroken. That’s the one thing I’m fighting for.. Babies.

I know he hates me researching stuff (incase I misdiagnose)… He’d rather I went doctors, said I was depressed and came home with a cocophyony of ‘happy pills’. Considering I don’t feel this way all the time, I don’t want that for myself. I don’t even know what I googled, but I stumbled upon PMDD. Premenstrual Disphoric Disorder. Whilst I read about it, alarm bells were going off in my head.. I just sat there thinking, this is me. This is bloody well me! I’m not angry all the time but before my period I’m just full of rage and self loathing, fear, anxiety, worthlessness, my body aches, thoughts race through my mind. I can’t concentrate on anything. I don’t want to be around anyone. I loathe people. I just want to shut myself in a dark room and cry and stuff myself with food. I think of harming myself. I become self critical about every single aspect of my life. I feel so god damn depressed. This is a new level of pms.

A few days after my period starts, all is well with the world. I feel happy, I smile, laugh and joke with my bf. I love my bf again and can’t imagine life without him. I like and want to be around people. I don’t mind life. I feel I can achieve anything, I become confident again. Come ovulation time, this whole cycle of bullshit starts again.

Living 1 life with 2 versions of me is so damn exhausting.

I’ve started a ‘diary of moods’ if you will and so has the bf. We’re going to record my moods over 2-3 cycles and see if it really is PMDD then, I’m going to my doctor! If it’s not, then I’m just fucking crazy and need proper help. Time will tell.

I think I need help..

Today was not a good day. I felt shit the moment I opened my eyes.

I lost my job a month ago and since then I’ve been on a downward spiral into what I can only describe as a bottomless pit. For 4 weeks I’ve acted like it hasn’t bothered me, but deep down it’s made me feel so worthless. I’ve tried so hard to get myself into a good position, so I can have a family with my partner and have everything I’ve ever wanted, but it’s all turned to shit. I want to be better than my mother was, I want my child to have the things I didn’t. I wanted to be better for him/her. And the fact that I’ve failed to do this has impacted me more than I can even begin to imagine.

This had all been exasperated by the fact that I think I’m suffering with depression or bi polar. I have crazy mood swings. One minute I’m ok, then the next I can feel ridiculously down for days on end. It doesn’t just coincide with my periods anymore, I’m just angry and irritable more often than I’m not. Happy and laughing and then feeling deep despair.

I often think about the point of my existence. It sounds awful, but because I’m failing so badly in most areas of my life, I do really wander what the point is. These constant feelings of inadequacy. It’s not even societies standards that I’m failing against, it’s my own. I think about ending my life, but deep down, I don’t think I could.

My partner and I had yet another argument today after I picked him up. Another ridiculous row, over something so trivial. I got angry and all I could think of was skipping a red light and just driving into traffic or just driving straight into a roundabout.

These feelings scare me so much because they’re becoming more frequent. I haven’t told anyone that I feel this way because of the bloody stigma. I’ve worked with people with serious mental health issues and I’ll admit to thinking the same thing. I’m terrified my partner is going to leave me. He’s said he’d never, but I know he will. He has no knowledge of mental health issues at all and just doesn’t understand why I can’t tell him what’s wrong when he asks. How can you explain a feeling when you don’t know what it is yourself. He gets so frustrated with me and I him.

I never used to feel this bad and it worries me because I want to have a child so desperately, I’m a prime candidate for post natal depression.

I wish I could talk to my partner about how I feel, but I can’t because he just doesn’t understand, and the sad thing is he never will.

Being sober

Now, let’s not get excited, I’m not an alcoholic. I never have been, but I’ve always enjoyed a glass of wine, or 5. I have done since I finished university. I don’t know why, but drinking most nights over a 3 year period, kind of gives you a taste for it!

I didn’t ever think I was bad, but a change was noted when I moved back home. Saying that though, my mother or anyone else in the family were never big drinkers. My mum was more if a smoker, as was my dad. I knew my older sisters drank, but I didn’t know to what extent…. So by default, I became ‘the drinker’.

It wasn’t an every weekend occurrence at that point. I was more the binge type. However, when hanging out with my gay best friends, we’d have big binge sessions. One of then was an alcoholic, so we were all expected to keep up. I knew my limits though. Once I got to THAT point, I’d stop. I hated being sick and I’m not the type to be able to continue after, so it was game over.

My drinking was sporadic after that. I’d just drink like a normal person. The odd glass after work or a bottle over the weekend. Until I met JJ. After being with him, buying 2-3 bottles of wine for the weekend seemed like a normal thing to do. I don’t recall my habits changing very much between him and JB. In fact, they did not change a all. JB wasn’t a wine drinker when I met him, but he can happily drink a bottle of red to himself nowadays.

As it currently stands, I’ve been 5 weeks sober. That’s quite an achievement for me. I’ve realised that not drinking alcohol changes your perspective on things. I no longer want to sit in pubs and I *really * don’t want to be near drunk people…. They’re so terribly annoying! Not that I had a hustling bustling social life before, but it’s definitely made me want to just stay in.

The past two weeks have been really hard for me. When I’ve come home stressed from work, I’ve not been able to release the tension properly. The only way I can process things now is to over analyse, which is irritating as it takes so long to wind back down. I also just miss the act of drinking, the smell and taste of wine and the buzzy feeling I get after a glass or two.

I bought this to try and help simulate things and curb the cravings, but the truth is….

…… It tastes like crap! At £3.50 a bottle, this should not be the case. Ah well, back to craving city I guess. On the plus side, only 2 weeks left of my sober month to go before I decide to either drink again, or continue my sober streak.

Life Decisions

The past few weeks I have really been thinking about my future. My lichens sclerosus is still bad but due to a change in my diet (no alcohol and less sugar) I’ve found I’ve had less flare ups.

I have genuinely been thinking about whether or not I really wanted kids or of I just forget about them and me and the bf save our money for travelling. I know it probably sounds quite drastic, but with the fibroids making trying to conceive a lot more difficult than it’s supposed to be and the lichens sclerosus ravaging my vulva so much so that I’ve become so narrow and I’m afraid to have sex, I have wondered if there’s any point.

That was until this week….

My Facebook has shown 4 pregnancy announcements. One I already knew about and another was a celebrity, but it still counts nonetheless. They shocked me and I felt so upset…. I wasn’t able to hide my upset from my bf. It hit me heard and my mind has since been consumed with nothing but baby and pregnancy thoughts.

Ive let myself wallow in self pity this week, cos it feels like a process I need to go through. Its helped! Because I allowed myself time to grieve, it made me realise I want a baby more than anything and I’m willing to try and help myself in order to start trying to conceive again. I have now ordered dilators and lube! Sounds odd, but I read that dilators can open you up again, which will really help get me ready for sex… I get so tense at the thought of having sex that it makes matters worse, and the anxiety doesn’t help with lubrication down there either. I’m hoping they’ll help with the sensations too, as the last time I had sex it didn’t feel nice, it just felt like aggravation and then relief of the itching. No point having sex if it doesn’t feel good, is there?

If this reignites my sex drive, I’m going to be so happy!

Wish me luck!

I got the job!

A while ago now, I posted about what I felt I was capable of doing job/career wise. I got stuck in a rutt after that and fell into bad job after bad job. I was an administrator on 20k a year, doing three most boring thing ever. This was a stark realisation that I was sick to death of admin.. So, I got another job that was less admin and more customer service based. To be fair, the job wasn’t that bad at all, but the company was an awful shambles. I was a sales coordinator responsible for a whole heap of people making a real mess of new homes. I’ll tell you something for nothing, hell hath no fury like a new home owner with faulty windows and doors! The stress of that job wasn’t worth the measly 18k they were paying me to not give a shit.

All this made me realise I need validation. I don’t know why, I just always have. Maybe it’s self esteem related. Well, not maybe, I’m almost certain it is.

So, when I saw a job advertised for a Housing Officer, I jumped at the chance. I’d already previously applied, but turned down the interview because I couldn’t get the time off work. I knew my application was good enough to get me to interview stage.

On the day of the interview I was the most nervous I’d ever been… Especially at the thought of about 15 interview questions! Who asks 15 questions?! That’s ridiculous. There was also a 10 minute section where I got to prepare answers to 3 questions they’d let me see. After the interview I was sure I’d messed up… I got shown around by another member of staff and then had another mini interview with him, which I felt I passed with flying colours. I left feeling semi confident about the whole ordeal.

Twice they tried to call me back the same day, but I was too nervous to answer! Terrified he’d tell me no and I was bound to spend the rest of my days being shouted at by homeowners! The following day I plucked up the courage to call them back and they told me I’d been successful! I’ve honestly never been so happy and shocked all at the same time. I didn’t even need to tell my boss… She could tell by the look on my face what I was going to tell her.

My new job can be super stressful because there’s a ridiculous amount of information to learn. I have to be clued up on rules, policies and procedures and all sorts. It’s been 3 months now and all manner of things have happened. Working with homeless people is hard, it’s chaotic, it’s rewarding, challenging and it’s fun. You can be judge, jury and executioner one day and the next, you can be someone’s best friend. The worst part is asking someone to leave when they’ve broken too many rules… And the best part is seeing someone transform their lives, and moving on. It’s not everything you get shown in the media… It’s not always black and white.. Homelessness is a multi coloured mindfield. There is one thing I know for sure, this feels like the validation I’ve been searching for, for so long.