At the beginning of April, I was supposed to have my ovaries removed. I have had huge issues with PMS – a few days before my period I go from a fairly level mood to often suicidal. I should note I’m writing from that state right now. I wasn’t willing to do the surgery because of Covid-19. It’s not worth dying for, but mygod, it is hard feeling like I’d love to die. My rational mind knows it is a lie, and I know that I have only a day or two more to endure, and then my period will start, and a few hours after that, this horrible horrible feelings and thoughts will go. With all the stress in my world, and the world in general, there is so much to latch on to and fuel my despair.
I’m on an antidepressant now, which has lowered the symptoms. I’m also working on taking micronutrients in high doses once my symptoms start. I did that religiously last month, and I had no symptoms at all. I wondered whether the antidepressants were enough and didn’t take them this month. Yeah. They might be necessary. Going to take them after this.
Added to the fact that I’m 48 and peri-menopause, and I never know when my next period is coming … this is a delightful surprise in my life every four to six weeks on average.
My username “ipse” is latin for “myself”.
I’m on a quest. I’m doing some pretty intense therapy right now. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I would again. I’ve done so much work over the last couple of decades, and at some point it can feel like I’m digging up more pain than I am willing to keep dealing with – maybe even more than I can deal with in whatever time I have left.
The abuse started so early in life, that I have thought that I don’t have a good sense of who I am. But I was talking with my very very excellent therapist this morning and I am doing better I think. Working it out.
Does it ever really matter who we are, how our lives have shaped us? – as opposed to who we might have been without our traumas?
We are the sum of all of our experiences – the bad and how we deal with it, and the good, and how we deal with that too.
I might be scared of the world I live in. I might have seen some of how horrific humanity can be. I might be fat, and ugly, and inadequate to the requirements of the life I am trying to have. But (to quote Celie from The Color Purple) – Dear God, I’m here.