Triggggggered

So I am sitting here after being checked in by the very young and kind front desk lady.  I swear the vibe in there is very similar to an airport terminal awaiting to board an aircraft and I'm hoping through that door is a trip to another place, another moment from this one..
It's always a little rough to sit in the OBGYN waiting rooms.  There is always an over abundance of expectant women with their loving husbands waiting to see ultra sounds of their little ones.

Wouldn't that be cool.

But on the contrary some are just there for their yearly, you can always tell because they look a little less tense.

Me, I'm just waiting for relief.

It seems to take eternity, especially when you are nervous.  I am trying to conceal my worry with writing at this very moment. I am back to see Dr. P today because I am to receive trigger point injections again.  I have previously wrote in regards to this and still never seem to remember the exact emotions I feel.

They called my name and it felt in a brief moment like an echo. I got up to head to my destination.

The first step is always blood pressure and weight.  I was talking so much to mask my nerves that the machine wouldn't take and she finally had to kindly tell me to stop talking.
It was normal.
Then I was weighed. 116.  Seems I've lost quite a few pounds.

We head back to the room and the kind nurse asks me roughly 237492349 questions on what I'm allergic to and how I feel.
After we had gotten to know each other like a script I've recited so many times that I've committed it to memory, she did what happens every time,

"Please undress from the waist down, someone will be right in"

I take off my sweat pants and underwear and neatly fold them on the chair.  I do something I never do; I kept my socks on.  As you well know, I don't do socks when I take my clothes off. It stresses me out.  But today seemed different.

I laid back and looked to my right and there was a picture of a setting sun on the water.
My destination.

I began to think of something my father said today to me, Embrace the suck....
Lately there has been a lot of suck in my life. The feeling lately of being taken for granted.  The feeling of putting myself into all I do and having nothing for myself.  I put every single ounce of all who I am in my job, in my relationship and in other random little parts of my life.
It's been so rough of me mentally. Very rough. Not sleeping. Not eating.
I've shut down in all aspects of my life.
Except one.

In the room, I kind of feel tears welling up in my eyes and I began to pray the Hail Mary and the Lord's Prayer, back to back, in a whisper because it's just for Him and I.

There is a knock at the door,
"Come in"

It wasn't Dr. P it was her PA, we will call her Dr. T.  Well Dr. T is this super skinny, beautiful, soft spoken little angel.  I really wanted to ask her where she got her skirt from.

She came in with a nurse who had the best resting bitch face I had ever seen in my life, and the only time she opened her mouth it was to ask if I wanted to hold her hand.

Dr. T placed little x's on my body to pin point each area she was going to insert the injections.
There were at the time 9 sharpied X's on my body.

She then asked me the most horrifying thing I've ever heard in my entire human life.
"Would you like an internal shot as well"

Excuse me...what...

My face must have looked horrified, the only words that could leave my lips were,
"That's a thing...."

She began to explain how it would really help my condition, but as she asked me the 1.25" needle was in the nurses hands and I couldn't even imagine putting that inside of me or wanting to even remotely do that at all.
It was a no from me dog.

I told her I would think about it for the next round.

I was all prepped and I was laying back becoming anxious again and I finally looked at that beautiful  RBF and said please hold my hand.

The first few are always the worse. But the lidocaine takes control and the last few you feel nothing.  The soreness is coming though. We decided on 10 shots due to the amount of serum left in the vial this time.

After she finishes, I lay there and she tells me to not get up too fast. Move when I am ready.
I don't cry this time.

I have three more appointments scheduled, two being in the month of December.

I have found through all of my reflection and inner thoughts that I have been putting everything under the sun over myself: my feelings, my mental health, my physical health, my sanity.

I matter too.
God I matter too.

I'm worn so thin that I have just shut down.
How do you come back from that.
I just need to breathe.

God I matter too.

So like what do you do.

I probably haven’t had real bad anxiety in a long time.

Like I had a full blown panic attack when I moved into my new house, where the walls were shutting in and even outside it felt like I was stuck in a seemingly bottomless chasm.

It's so hard to explain this menacing flow of uncertainty.  It was getting to a point where I would just lay in bed thinking of every mistake I have made in the last 20 years.  It's a toxic nightmare that didn't make any sense.

It was an argument with myself.  I would speak out loud to tell the baleful assertions in my head that they were wrong,

I would be proclaiming I am worthy! I am not nothing!

I didn't realize that after everything there would be so much mental pain too. 

The doctors were so adamant about me seeking council to reconcile with myself over the difficulty of my prognosis.  At first I thought they were worried about how I would take not being able to have children and, though difficult, I have found most peace with that.

So why do I have to speak my inner thoughts and desires and take these pills if I am fine.

I didn't realize they could have been betting on the fact that I would need assistance to get through the nights I don't want to go out because of the pain or the constant worry of feeling fat because of the effects this disease has on your body, endo belly..so hot. 

I didn't realize that it would take a toll on my relationships with the inability to be intimate when I want to.

I didn't realize.

It was getting to a point where I was mad at myself and mad at God and why he would make me this defective human. 

I am worthy.  I should feel that way at least.  It's a struggle.  It's sometimes to a point where work takes a toll, home takes a toll, friends take a toll, and it becomes too much.

That was enough. I didn't want to lose it all.  I did something I swore I would never do again.  Because I felt stronger at one point but I was mad, I was getting angry, every trigger would consume me. I was losing my compassion, losing sight, being awful and ugly to everyone around me.  I did it I got on anxiety medication. 

I didn't want to lay in bed for hours feeling so stiff that I couldn't move.  I wanted to take my life back.

I wanted to be kinder to those around me. 

I was nervous about this change.  Before the doctors didn't worry about what it was doing to me.  It was making me a zombie. It literally almost killed me.

But this time was different; I was ready for it.

Did it make me feel like I had succumbed to this feat? Did it feel like I had given up on my own ability to take control of my own life?
Yes it did...at first.  But I have found myself thinking more clearly, not overcome with rage and anxiety.

It was a beautiful moment to feel like I had gained my life back. 
I was worried a lot about the stigma. 

Take your crazy pills Kelsey.

But I am not crazy.  Am I crazy? Maybe, I am crazy.  But it's not crazy to want to take control of your life.

I don't care for the negative connotation of this majestic antidote.
Do I feel like I want to shut myself in my room anymore and wait for a better day?

No.

I took my life back. 

What's Wrong with Your Head.

Mental stability has never been one of my strong suits.

During my high school days I was seeing this psychiatrist, whose name I don't remember for some pills that I can't forget. 

I was going through typical "My parents don't understand me, and I am a failure because of my grades and my need to drink during the school day" high school slump.

I was a typical kid that didn't technically need to be on Lexapro and Paxil.  But I was. 

I stopped taking pills right after high school.

Then proceeded to resume my pill poppin after my 25th birthday.  My docs decided I need them because I couldn't have children.

I was going through the typical "I am unable to bear children, No one understands me.  I have lady parts for no reason and my need to be drunk during the day" mid-twenties slump.

I needed Jesus, not pills.

After my fiasco, where I took too high of a dosage of pills (talked about it "Well That Could Have Been Bad), I decided no more for me.

The only pills I take daily now will be BC, God Bless that baby chewable pill that causes the stopped up drain of what is my "reproductive system"and of course, 800 MG Ibuprofen, famously known as the Holy Grail of tablets, that was placed upon this Earth by the gods to cleanse my soul of the gut-wrenching agnoy that comes with being Kelsey.
#shoutouttomyliver

Well as of late I have not been "allowed" to take Ibuprofen. 
Long story short:
Football, my face, a dudes face, both facing the ball, collision, knocked out, concussion, ER, impact testing fail, memory loss, not better.
Sadly, that is the shortened version.

I apparently I'm not "resting" enough to be better, which sucks but, I am a busy woman, Dr. M. I got my heart and soul into my career and I can't just put it on hold.  I can compromise, but I can't stop.

Dr. M is really nice.  I've seen her twice now.  Her fingers are cold. It's not a bad thing.  She does look familiar, but not in a way that I know her.  Just like it feels, like I have seen her at a coffee shop or something, like 11 years ago.   You know, familiar but, not.

I really hope I don't lose my hair because my head is all lumpy now.  It would look terrible. Like a fused together peanut M&M.  I don't know... maybe that is a terrible explanation, but that's all I got right now, which isn't saying too much.
I don't really "got" a lot right now, except a headache and a need for more sleep.
I guess this is what the Scarecrow felt like. 

You will be just fine.

I've lost touch.

Not on purpose, naturally.  But life gets in the way.
The days turn to weeks and you just forget. 

The reason I started this was to never forget. 

To remember how I felt. How this is my life, not one that I am watching from the outside in silence. I am trying to remember to play an active role in it.

Much has happened. And I'll do a quick recap to not spend hours on it, which I probably will anyways...  So my last published piece was June... An immense amount of things have happened..

Well I fell in love in a hopeless place, B has become this person, my person, in my life that has washed every doubt of inadequacy that I have ever felt in my life away from me in a way that I never thought I could feel or know or be deserving of. 
It has been a beautiful surprise, one that I thought would never exist, but he does and we are here.

Life changes has led me to being back in the service industry, being in management, gross yet yay.  My employees humble me through their strength, love, and ability to persevere through their own personal trials.  It has been not only the biggest headache I have literally ever had, but the most rewarding headache.  I do love them, but don't exactly love waking up at 4:30 AM on purpose...

My health has been better since I'm back on the ole pill.  That majestic pill that stops pregnancy (not mine other peoples), and psycho ass Kelsey.  Who would have thought.
But I know if I have missed it, because I will sit in the car and sob uncontrollably to a video of Mr. Roger's testifying in front of the Senate for more funding for public television from 1969...yo girl chill...
So the pain is better, minus the swelling.  But beggers can't be chosers... 

I hate that saying.

I'm not a raging alcoholic anymore, which is better.. for my liver.... and the bank account.. that also being said when I do have a drink every once in awhile... I'll have a headache for 13 1/2 days. It's literally the worst.  I guess this is 27?

I am trying to be a better person.  Trying to be a better leader.  Trying to show that I am not this unstable little unicorn that I used to be. 

I'm not as good at this as I used to be.  Not as poetic or well-spoken.  And I definitely still don't have it all together. But did we really expect that to happen..

But. I guess what I am trying to say is: I am still alive.  I am going to try to be more consistent, with my stories of meaningful life shit.  Perhaps a decent story every once in a while. 

Like Mr. Rogers and children, but mine will be to adults who need to feel someone gets it.  Because that's what ties most people together; their ability to be understanding and relate.