My most recent flare has unleashed never-ending questions and given rise to a level
of anxiety I haven’t felt in a long time.
– How much longer will I be able to live alone?
– How much longer will I be able to live in this apartment? (No elevator, just
– How am I going to take care of my hair? Black hair is quite labour intensive
and requires different care at different times. This week, I’ve barely been able to
– Will we find medication that will help?
– Will I ever feel good again?
– Am I desperate enough to ask my Gay BF to help me clean this weekend (If you
could see my kitchen sink, you’d know I am)
– Am I desperate enough to ask him to seriously consider living together? (I’m
– How many ice packs should I buy (two isn’t enough)
– Should I get another heating pad?
– Am I overreacting? (Then I yawn and feel the incredible pain in my jaw and
know I’m not)
– Am I being whiny?
– Should I even be dating now? Or trying to have sex with someone? (The thought of someone touching me just seems so painful right now)
This past week was also the final nail in the coffin of whether I will ever be a
mommy. Until this week, there was a 5% chance I wanted to have kids of my own
and now that has been reduced to 0%. Between my depression, which has me
worried I’ll be that small percentage who suffers from postpartum psychosis
and now my arthritis which is making it difficult to care for myself, I can’t take
the chance. If I can’t care for myself properly, why would I bring a child into a
situation where I couldn’t be the best possible mommy I could be?
This decision has been a long time coming. And truth be told, I’m not really sad
about it. Actually, I feel relieved. I think I’ve been looking for a reason to justify
why I don’t want kids for a long time (I know I shouldn’t need a reason but
society isn’t quite there yet).
So Tuesday when I go in to talk to my GP about birth control, I’m going to talk
about a permanent option. I don’t know how she will respond to that thought but
she has been wonderfully supportive over the past year and a bit since she
became my doctor and I love her. Really. Especially lately when I usually end up
turning into a sobbing mess in her office. This appointment will probably be no
different. For now, I will probably go back on the pill until we can find a good
time to deal with surgery.