Did you know that going through a bit of a health ‘crisis’ can make you a bitch?
I use the word crisis loosely here because, let’s face it, I’m not dying of anything but it is enough to make life more than a little miserable for the majority of the time. For a swift summary, over a year on and still no diagnosis, hopefully one in the pipeline but that’s just the start. There’s some hefty medication going on for the migraines as they were getting fairly serious but that’s not something that can carry on long term so I’m hoping that by some miracle they just buggar off in all honesty.
Did you know that stopping popping a pill full of hormones can make you an irritable bitch?
After 15 years on the pill, on the advice of one of the consultants, I stopped. And GOD, I wish I could go back on it. I’m moody, mean, aggressive, spotty, my hair is different, I don’t know when I’m due on, my periods HURT. It’s hell basically.
Did you also know that going through redundancy, having a month (over Christmas) to find a job and starting said new job while being ill can make you a bitch?
Stress levels with me are always on a high if we’re honest, I’m not one of these mellow people and since being ill, things have been a bit harder to manage. Towards the end of last year, I was signed off work for over a month as things got too much for me and I had what we shall call an ‘episode’ at work.
To say being made redundant was the best thing that could have happened is an understatement, I love my new job but BOY is it different. It’s in London, it’s commuting, it’s busy and I have to use (what little there is left of) my brain.
Did you know that ill (which mimics chronic fatigue) + new job stress + very little free time = bitch
I now get home at just gone 7pm. For some people, this is nothing. For me, it is tough. Along with the illness is a rather horrible symptom of absolute fatigue. Not just being tired but bone achingly worn out a lot of the time. So I get home, eat, bath and I am in bed by 9.30. That’s just 2.5hrs to myself of an evening and really, they’re not to myself because cooking dinner, eating, trying to fit in a bit of exercise and washing and drying my sodding hair do not count and relaxing time. I feel like I have no time just to sit. Sit and read, sit and think, sit and do nothing but relax. I relax at about 2pm on a Sunday afternoon, just in time to start thinking about work again.
Once I have a diagnosis, I then have to make sure I am fitting in there; at least 8hrs sleep, meditation, yoga, 30 mins moderate cardio per day, resistance training per day and making sure I am ‘relaxed’.
Did you know that being ill and tired and stressed makes you a bitch?
I’m always stressed. Always, without fail, every day. You know when you break your cheap, crappy work pen and there’s that little spring indside, (that incidentally, you lose and so can’t make the damn thing work again because now it won’t click) I feel like one of those. Always so tightly wound that it really doesn’t take much for me to snap, and snap I do. Oh yes. I don’t have the time or the patience for people or situations any more. The neighbours drive me mad, the cats drive me mad, commuters drive me made, everyone drives me mad. It’s really not healthy.
And finally. Did you know what all of the above, while trying to save for and plan a wedding, well that makes you the bridezilla bitch from hell?
In one breath, I say to the Fella, “I can’t do it all by myself, I don’t know about these things either, you NEED TO HELP ME.” (while crying) and in the other, as he excitedly shows me a mock up of an invitation and before I’ve really even looked at it, “No, that’s horrible, I can do a hundred times better than that.”
So, there we have it. Bitchy. Bitchy but hopefully getting there.