Catch Up or Caught Down?

 I figured it was about time to start writing again.  I have had a lot of things to work through since I last spoke and a lot has changed.  Priorities have changed, life has changed, and time never stops. 

And the journey never ends.  I have still been battling with endometriosis, and the surgeries and management of the disease never ends. But things have been a lot better since my last surgery in December of 2021.  The surgery ending up being robotics and it rid me of a lot of excess scarring which was definitely an issue when it came to pain. 

I still have pain, which I know will never fade, but I have been trying to live a better/healthier lifestyle to combat some of the influences I have control over.  

Don't get me wrong.. I will still have the occasional drink, but the wilding out (Nick Cannon voice) has died down significantly.

Honestly, its probably because I am 32 (I am pretty sure) now and hangovers last an entire moon cycle, and I really don't have the time or capacity for that anymore.

But small catch up:   I am married now.. Yes it's true (I can't believe it either), I tricked him so hard and now he is stuck with me.  Until death do us part dawg.  And if I die before him and he thinks I want him to "move on"... he has another thing coming... if I am dying guest what mothereffer you are getting in with me and we can go together... I will haunt the shit out of him. 

Honestly, what is really wild is before I met my angel, the man that saved my life.. I was planning on having a full hysterotomy.  

No shit, I had it all planned out. I was going to do it in October, and we met in August.  I was determined to snip snap, until I met him.  

I looked in his eyes and I knew that's going to be my baby daddy. So I decided to spontaneously keep it all up in there in hopes I could make him fall in love with me and eventually knock me up with some shots and a petri dish.

So we got married, we moved away to a new state, and I am out of the service industry and I have flipped my life all the way into a pretzel.

I would probably be freaking out if I didn't have him. 

Now the mental is a thing... I know this has been my story of infertility and that's a huge portion of who I am because of the trials and tribulations I have faced dealing with this imperfect being that is human. 

But my mental.. jeez louise.. its been all types of what the hell.  

Like scary. And I have no idea how to deal with this.  

I have no idea how to handle my own brain.  

It's terrifying.  How am I supposed to be a mother if I am a complete psychopath who cries in the bath while listening to Paramore. 

I can't even pull myself sometimes out of the dark abyss and I am expecting myself to just pop out octuplicates and be like good? I have a good support team which is rare and beautiful, and I am lucky.

Honestly, I am lucky to be alive. Life will either eat you or it won't. It's so easy to just throw in the towel and say, nope I am done with the pain, I am done with the sadness, I am done with the hurt,  I am done with the tears, I am done with the sorrow.

 I am just done.  And that's not you.. You aren't meant to be done.  

There is a plan.  There is hope.  There is support.  It's okay to take a pill to be okay.  It's okay to feel sad, but it's not okay to feel like you are nothing, because you are someone's something, whether you know it or not. 

I didn't mean to go on some crazy rampage, and it's been 2 years and I am coming in soooo hot. But I will write more, I think.  I might have lost my touch, because the rumors are true... if you don't use it you will lose it.

But I will have more to discuss like: the baby grant I applied for, and Colorado doing some awesome IVF advancements... like insurance... covering...part... of....IVF... okay too many surprises. But basically life is good. It's still crazy. I am still a wreck of a person, but a girl is trying to just wake up in the morning and be alive. 

Loca Loca Loca

I feel fucking crazy.  That's a fact.

Things were getting worse, the pain, the anger, the sadness, the lack of sleep and patience.  I am tired.

But I've been tired.

I really didn't think I needed more help after finding out that Endometriosis was my fate.  I thought I had dealt with my shit pile of cards and things are awesome and I'm going to put my every being into my career.  I'm going to let fate decide my relationship status and I'm good.

then why the fuck am I so angry.

Finally I decided that I'm just not trying to be this person anymore.  My emotions controlled my life. Basically I'm attempting to break up with my anger.  Which He is kind of a douche bag and treats me like shit, so naturally I'm in love with him. 

I decided the best way to break up with my anger was the only plausible decision which was to see a psychiatrist and get better drugs to make me less angry and sad. 

Makes sense.

So ya girl calls Dr. A.  She is in my network...one of the reasons I chose her and Like dude I don't know her.   She can't help me if I'm not honest.  So we Zoom meet which is like the 2020 skype.
And I send her all 45 pages of how I am feeling which  like one question was

"list your traumatic experiences"
And let me tell you nothing gives you PTSD like writing out every single thing you bury so deep to forget but you know that you need to tell her or the anger and sadness doesn't stop.

So you tell her.

We are talking via Zoom because of the Rona and She asks me more questions like my fucking novel that I sent her wasn't sufficient enough to make a diagnosis.

And Dr. A blurts out the most obscene shit I've ever heard.

"Kelsey you are bipolar"
At first I was like excuse me B word you are bipolar... I 1000% thought she was being rude and then I had to remember she is a psychiatrist and like those words actually mean something here.

What.. Bipolar.  I'm not bipolar.  There is no way I am bipolar.  I am not crazy.  I don't have anything wrong with me. I have been just fine.  I don't need this.

bipolar: extreme highs and extreme lows.

fuck I'm bipolar.

She starts listing all the medicines I need to start taking.  I keep it together as she tells me she is calling in my prescriptions.

We hang up and I'm sitting there with myself.  I am bipolar. It felt like a bomb had dropped on me. 
I always thought everyone felt the way that I do about things.

Realizing you are different hurts. You aren't like everyone else.  Your brain isn't right. My brain isn't right.


I have been on these happy pills for 3 weeks now.  So Strange.

My first move was to realize there was something not right and make a change.

There is nothing wrong  with being bipolar,  I am still me. I haven't lost myself. But there are more good days than bad.

It's okay.
My brain isn't right, but it's okay.

Overdosing is Less Than Everything Else

Well I never expected it to be this long since I have written.
I have made up every excuse to avoid being vulnerable again or seem like I need a grasp on life or help.
But I think it's time to get back to myself and figure out what I am missing or what I need.
If it sucks it's because it's been too long and I am technically so far out of school that I might not even recall the difference between their, there, and they're...(I'm kidding about that last part. Yikes)

I have been so busy with immersing my every being into my career, to where it is making me bury everything else and now it is biting me in the ass like it always does.
  I have had a lot happen since I have decided to write again. So a recap I guess would serve a purpose because.. well I really don't need an excuse..because this is my story anyways..

I tried the internal shots.
And the first time it was like God had bestowed upon me the feeling of what a pain-free life would look like.
Well that's a stretch...the path is anything less than ideal.

A giant needle penetrating your muscles in your pelvic floor...::no no I don't like that::

It was the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. We ended up doing 8 internal shots. Dr. T was putting gauze in places that I didn't think one should put gauze. I started to freak because she was like WE NEED GAUZE, and said it in a urgent manner like she had just cut off a piece of my body. 

 The tears were worth the terror.

I have done 8 rounds of shots. Two internal and 6 external.  I have only done two internal because the first time was awesome but the second time made me so sick. Dr. T shared some dark Dove chocolate to settle my insides. Turns out if you are on your cycle it sends the muscles into shock and causes your body to freak out. And it did.  IT really did.

Dr. T said shots are not a permanent solution and I knew that and she knows that and we all know that, but I was scared for another surgery and scared for the pain and scared for the pills.
But I didn't want to say I wouldn't try.
We discussed changing my medications up. What's ONE more pill.

 I was taking 20mg of Lexapro to manage my anxiety and they decided to switch me over to Cymbalta.  This anti-depressant is also an anti-spasmatic. 

Well in the laws of the drug world you can't stop taking one and start taking another.

You have to ween off that shit.  So we decided to take me down to 10mg of Lexapro for a week, then 10mg with 30mg of Cymbalta, and the 10mg of Lexapro with 60mg of Cymbalta, and let's just say 60mg with 10mg is too many mg for my body.

I overdosed again. 
My muscles were in over drive.  I couldn't stop moving, I  couldn't talk, I hurt all over.  Brandon rushed me to the ER and my heart rate was 170 resting. My blood pressure was through the roof. They admitted me and pumped me with Benadryl and fluids through my arm and instantly was completely drugged up.  No idea what happened and then Brandon took me home.

It was like a dream. I didn't know when I woke up if it happened or not but I did feel like I was hit by an underage drunk driver again. Prying myself out of bed like they pried me out of my vehicle.
 And I went back to work the next day. 
I am back on the Lexapro and feeling better. 

It's dark in life when you mess with something that stabilizes you.

We still don't have a solution, but I guess I'll be getting my next round of shots on the 11th.

Life is crazy sometimes. Depression is real. Confidence and perseverance really are key to creating normalcy in a body that you wish wasn't yours. 

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.