I wanted my contributions to this blog to be somewhat professional. After all, we’re CTworkingmoms. But being the hormonal mess that I am, that’s all gone to crap, it seems.
Some explanation is in order. I am getting bloodwork done this week that will hopefully confirm whether I have hypothyroidism, a condition that causes depression, mood swings, weight gain, and a host of other symptoms. At first, I was hoping not to have this health problem, and that whatever’s wrong with me can be fixed with some minor lifestyle changes. But now, I feel like the crazy has reached new heights. If my thyroid turns out to be fine, I don’t know what I’m going to do, because then I won’t have an explanation and I’ll be back at square one trying to fix what’s wrong with me.
I don’t know why I’m so angry all the time. Not all the time. The rest of the time, I’m just numb. I miss the normal, friendly person I used to be. There’s a trace of that person left, but it’s being overshadowed by whatever this new persona is. I’m moody and sensitive about EVERYTHING. I can’t even take a weird look from a person in the grocery store, which probably has absolutely nothing to do with me, without bursting out in tears.
A few of you have suggested recently that this is all “normal” and a part of being pregnant again as well as the stress of raising a toddler, work, family, etc. Maybe you’re right. But, is that really a good thing? If this is “normal” then what is there to look forward to in life? A life that is depressing and bleak and bitter, but at least it’s “normal”?
I would get help, but I can’t bring myself to make that call. I’m scared of what might happen next.
I was always critical of people for being wrapped up in their problems and unable to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and just “get over it.” I didn’t even believe most people who said they were depressed unless they had a clinical diagnosis and the prescriptions to prove it. My god, if this is punishment for having felt that way, I am SO SO SORRY and I take it back. No one should have to feel this way.
I live on a beautiful street with great neighbors in a lovely Connecticut town. I love sitting in Mackenzie’s nursery and looking out at the trees, the houses, people’s pets. But the joy is short-lived, because then it flashes through my mind that life could be completely meaningless and that all this beauty is a fleeting illusion. I was going to end this post right here on a dark note. Having re-written it about six times in the past ten minutes, I think instead I’ll try harder to be positive. Maybe it IS meaningless, but I guess it’s still possible to find or invent some meaning if it makes the day a little easier to get through.