I HATE, DESPISE, LOATHE admitting weakness. It is worse than eating liver, getting grey hair, having knee surgery, even having the flu. Yes, I would actually rather throw up for a few hours than admit what I am about to admit to you now. My body has finally defied me. The stress (I dislike that word) has taken over. In my last post, I admitted that I have having getting tension headaches.
I finally went to see a doctor. Not my regular PCM. A...shrink...yes...I went to see if I was, in fact, completely off my rocker. Josh had pointed out to me, "why now?" he said, "you have been through some really heavy shit (pardon the language, he only speaks Marine)". He is right. What I have been through is more than the average bear. The things I have in my mind, would literally crumble the average person. One step into my brain, and surely it might take someone years of therapy. Not me, I just count my blessings and "keep swimming". Granted, I internalize everything, they say thats a "no-no", but it works just fine for me, since the day of my Mom's lumpectomy, June 15th (two days before my 16th birthday)...I have kept it in. If I want you to know how I feel, I'll share. Usually I share about 3/4's of what I feel, the other 1/4 is private.
While being "evaluated" yesterday...yes, evaluated...(thinking in my head: oh my gosh, she is going to think I am crazy, nuts, admit this girl to the hospital crazy....she'll be able to see through my mind and know what I am thinking...panic, panic, pretend to be calm, pretend to be calm....wait....what am I thinking?, I am normal...why I am working myself up?, am I normal?, what if I am crazy?, oh my god, I can't breathe, I think I am going to combust) she asked me several questions. I answered, sometimes my answers were long, sometimes they were brief. Sometimes I would tell her what I though she needed to know, and sometimes I would tell her only what I wanted her to know.
When she got to the question about seeing things, in my dreams, or even in my daydreams...about my Mom, or my grandma passing. I literally froze. I don't know the right answer, so I spoke truthfully. She asked if I ever had nightmares...or pictured them. I don't know about anyone else, but, when you see someone you love die, or you see them after they die, it is an image that will NEVER, EVER, EVER go away. There is nothing you can do to shake it. Why did she have to ask that? So now, I am being a hypochondriac, thinking she's thinking I have PTSD or something. I don't, I am just normal, right?! lol!
I know this is literally all situational. I am anxious, stressed, worried...all because of the "what-if's" that come along with this surgery. I am 100% worried about my kids and 0% worried about me. Okay, actually, I take that back....I am 100% worried about my kids and 100% worried about my husband...and too bad, I know mathematically, I should say 50/50...but, I am not. I am saying 100/100, because I can, so there.
Now, this medicine the doctor put me on...it's not doing anything for the anxiety. I feel like someone can put me in one of those cage fights and I can KO a 300 pound guy...but I also feel like I need to sleep, for about 48 hours straight. I am like a zombie, with a lot of pent up anxiety. I called into the doctor...hopefully he can fix this. I have never met a zombie hulk. Seems counter productive, if you ask me. We shall see what tomorrow brings!