I've been very high functioning these past few months, mostly because my meds more or less regulate my life. I have something to calm me down. And I have something that makes sure I don't get too calm so as to lower my moods to dangerous levels.
I'm also on progesterone that made me stop getting my periods. Apparently, my body produces too much estrogen, which explains why I've been bleeding too much whenever I get my periods and I've had debilitating dysmenorrhea for as long as I can remember.
I don't think I have the mood swings that should be expected because of all the meds, but I've had horrible acne, I've been bloated. The bruising has intensified, and my hair falls out in clumps. Some days, I have no appetite at all. Some days I binge to the point of punishing myself.
The thing is, I also haven't been feeling much of anything lately. So much so that I haven't bothered updating my tracker because my moods have basically been the same. Which is supposed to be okay, but I haven't felt alive in a while.
I have pockets of bizarre hyper mental activity that, thankfully, translates to my being a workaholic. (At least it's productive.) But then it's followed by longish episodes of social anxiety. Like now. I haven't left the house in over a week. Stepping outside of the front door to sort of look at the sun again made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack.
If anything, the only thing I feel intensely is hatred. For myself. I hate this malfunctioning body. I hate that I'm ugly. I hate that every little thing that touches my thigh gives me a bruise that stays for months. I have bruises that have been with me for two years.
Sorry. I'm usually a strong powerful feminist who is yadda-yadda-yadda. "You're the strongest person I know." You know how many times I've heard that? You know what this strong feminist would like to hear for a change?
You're beautiful.
You matter.
I'll stick around.
Okay. Maybe this is a mood, who knows. I don't know anymore. The self-loathing has been so consistent, I don't know if it's a mood or a fact of life.
How am I supposed to raise my daughter to love herself the way I love her, if I can't even love my own shadow?
Oh, and thanks to this ill-informed pro-life organization, I might not have access to progesterone anymore.
Oh, and I started bleeding again yesterday. That's not supposed to happen.
Yeah, I'm not ending this post positively. Sorry.
ETA: Sorry. I know other people have it worse than I do. I really do. And I feel bad about them. And I feel bad about feeling bad about the things I'm feeling bad. Basically, I'm feeling bad about everything. Sorry.
