I’ve woken up every night this last week freaking out, because I don’t know where I am, and I feel like I can’t breathe. It’s horrible.
He has safely arrived at his hotel and I can take a deep breath again.
I’m a worrier.
The blog has gotten kind of dark recently. I realize that. I’m not apologizing for it, however, because this is where I am right now, and this is my place. This is where I write it out. Gotta take the good with the bad.
I think I’m going through a mid-life crisis. I’ll be 39 in a month, after all. The last year of my thirties. I’m approaching true middle age, and I guess it has me questioning a lot of things, particularly career related things. I am quite content with my home/family life. My relationship is fucking solid. But I’m not happy with my career. I cannot imagine doing this every single day for the rest of my life. And that has me super down. I’m also not doing really well with this whole post-menopausal/aging situation. I feel old, ugly, fat, and unattractive. I’m trying to take better care of myself both physically and mentally, but it’s hard, and I struggle to love myself/take care of myself the way I deserve.
It doesn’t help that the world seems to be getting shittier every day, and it makes things feel both hopeless and pointless.
I feel so much rage towards so many people. I’ve been so good about swallowing it down for so long, but it feels like everything is going to erupt. There are people in my life who are dangerously close to no longer being in it.
I don’t fucking know. All I know for sure is that I’m a bit of a mess. I’m trying to fix it, but I’m definitely riding the struggle bus.
Every. Single. One.
I’ve come out to my husband already, and so I’m just going to say it here:
I’m depressed; like in a dark place and should probably take meds depressed.
I have no motivation. I feel completely overwhelmed all the time. My anxiety is raging. I can’t sleep. I cry for no reason. I’m wanting to isolate myself (even more than usual). I’m angry. It’s not good.
It’s not really surprising considering my history with depression combined with the massive changes in my body over the last couple of months. The complete loss of estrogen is a huge fucking deal.
I tried Effexor, but that just made things worse. I got suicidal. I don’t particularly want to take meds, but I know I should at least consider it. I need to get a new primary care doc like asap.
My current plan is to increase my exercise. I do usually feel a lot better mentally when I’m exercising regularly. And hopefully find a way to get more restful sleep. I’ve been taking Benadryl at bedtime for allergies and it has helped a bit with my insomnia. Also, D has kicked the cat out of the bedroom because she kept waking us (mostly me) up. That has helped a lot too.
It feels good to just say it, actually. Like a bit of the burden has been lifted. I’m tired of having to pretend I’m okay when I’m really not. That doesn’t mean I don’t have fun or good moments/days. Just overall…I’m feeling down and I need love and understanding to help me through it.
I’m literally making myself sick from stress.
This is not good.
I’ve been up since about 4:30 am worrying about various things. Around 5:30 am, I decided it was stupid to lie around worrying about stuff, when I could just get up and do some of the stuff. So I did. I got to the office super early. I cleared a bunch of stuff off my desk. Also, I am now >this< close to being done with these fucking responses that are due on Friday. I think maybe they’re sort of good. I feel like they are persuasive, and that’s what really matters. I don’t actually have to do the oral arguments until July 20, but I’m sort of locked into whatever I write in these written responses, so…stress.
Of course, I also awoke to various emails, court filings, and emergencies, so the stress just keeps on keeping on. But at least I’m making some sort of progress. Sometimes that’s all you can hope for. I get a strange satisfaction from literally marking something off my to-do list.
I typically work from home on Mondays, so I’m going to pack up in a bit and head back to the homestead. I will then finish my writing for the day, and maybe even find time for a run before the bestie comes over tonight to hang out.
It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even properly relax during the weekend. The anxiety plagues me constantly. It’s all getting to be too much.
- My anxiety is raging.
- I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.
- I regret daily the decision to have my ovaries removed.
- On the flip side, I commend myself on having the courage to go through with it. Because I knew. And I did it anyway.
- The silver lining of feeling completely overwhelmed by my life is that I’m starting to do and say whatever I want. Fuck the consequences.
- I want to be clear for my husband’s sake: none of this is about my home life. My home life is awesome.
- My professional life? That’s another story entirely.
- My self-esteem? In the toilet.
- The thing is…if I’ve fought so very hard just to stay alive, then the rest of these decisions/issues should be easy right? I’ve already done the hardest part. I mean, I’ve literally allowed parts of my body to be cut off just to stay alive.
- Cool, cool, cool.
- Everything feels harder at 2:33 am.
- Nothing is fucked, Jenn. It may feel fucked, but you’ve got this.
- Remember what you told D: what if instead of faking it, this is just what making it looks like? Nobody said it was going to be easy, and I’m pretty fucking sure nobody else feels like they have it all under control either. Everybody is faking it.
We’re about fifty miles from home now, and my mind has already started listing out all the work shit that absolutely must get done this week; including one huge thing that is causing me much anxiety. Because where do I even start with that monster project? Oh and my business partner is on vacation this entire week…because of course. So when will I even find the time??
Ugh…the weekend is over, peeps. Back to the crushing, stressful hell that is lawyer life.
One of my best friends is having surgery this morning and she is very much on my mind.
I know she’s going to be just fine, but I also know how much surgery sucks, and how scary it is.
Sending you all the good vibes and love, C.