It’s been awhile.
A lot has changed.
I have been up. I have been down. I have learned so much.
I don’t know where to start….
I stopped writing, creating, really. I started working in a Warehouse. I got myself off of Social Assistance. I (with my partner) got an apartment. I thought Life was really coming together.
Things started to unravel just before COVID hit. Almost 6 months before COVID to be exact. I started to feel stressy, depressy, homesick, and lost. Upon leaving therapy my therapist warned me I was not finished. I begged to differ and was steadfast on my decision, but suddenly felt a pang of “uh ohs” enter my body. I had been out of therapy at least 2 years at this point.
You know, for the anxiety riddled wack job I can be, I surprised myself during those first months-and first year- of COVID. I was lucky enough to have chosen a career that allowed me to continue working, OUTSIDE my home (thus getting my self-isolating ass out of the house which was and is much needed). I fought my fight or flight response that so desperately wanted to take flight and run. Run away. Take leave. Get out. But I didn’t. I stayed. So many left, but I stayed.
I thought it would get better. Summer would come and this will end.
Summer came. Then Fall. Winter again. Not only is COVID prevailing, it’s mutating. I now have to wear a at mask at work. Every day, all day. My partner was laid off for a period. Then I was laid off. Our wages were greatly affected by this, and quite honestly, I never recovered.
Regardless, I enter 2021 with a renewed hope. This was short lived as by April I was extremely depressed. Broke. Living with the love of my life yet feeling lonelier than ever. Nothing is getting better. The job I once loved is now such a chore. Not to mention the TURNOVER of people was and is at a rate I have never seen before. Unfamiliar people everywhere, in masks no less, I still don’t know what a lot of my co workers really look like. But I digress.
By May I announced that I felt we needed to move home. I needed to go home. I needed to feel I was somewhere that felt like home, not an overpriced shit hole I was clinging to because “its what your SUPPOSED to do”…right…?!? Pfffft. When do I ever do what I’m “supposed to” anyways? (I always choose the Hard Road for context). I felt this was the BEST possible decision, go home. Everything will be fine if I just GET HOME. It took 2 months, moving what we could, back to our mother’s houses, on weekends off. I did not want anyone to know I was moving so I made it extra stressful on myself by not taking time off to move. I just used all of my spare time to load and unload my little Toyota pick-up as many times as I could. I was exhausted. Mentally and physically.
We gave notice to vacate the apartment by the first of August. I spent my first night at home (in over 5 years) on July 10, 2021. This gives me chills because this date is turning out to be a reoccurring one in my life. My Fathers Funeral was July 10. My first day at my job that I love was July 10. Now my first night back where I started – July 10. WILD.
I cried a lot those first few nights. I was home but I felt lost, still. Was this the right choice?? I miss my own EVERYTHING. Where is this? Where is that? I have no idea because I started panic moving and just threw everything wherever I could. My cat is stressed. Does my partner miss me? Even though he was a fixture on the couch I miss him. I want to be by myself yet when I’m by myself I get sad and cry. I don’t know what I am doing.
For awhile I partially lived in an insulated 40 foot Trailer when I first came home. We had one in the backyard. How convenient. There seemed to be no room in the house for me and I was happy to live out my tiny house dreams. By October, however, this bubble burst when I woke up to our first good freeze of the season. My little Trailer Home, being only steps from the House, had no bathroom or kitchenette. It was more of a Bedroom/Studio than a tiny home but don’t tell my previous Trailer self that. As it became colder and the threat of Snow became more real I thought it might be a good idea to move into the house to sleep. At least for the Winter. I almost shat my pants running across the lawn one night after a major disagreement with a spicy chicken sandwich, should that problem arise again I do not want to have to fight with a foot of snow and frozen doors because I do believe it would just cause a whole mess of problems. Pun intended.
It’s around this time I start to lose my period and have hot flashes. What a trip. I’m also down to 102 pounds and nothing fits. What is happening?!? Time goes by. Weeks. Months. Still no period. The hot flashes have now turned into a way of life. I set out extra pyjamas knowing full well I will wake up AT LEAST once, absolutely drenched in sweat. I will need a change AT LEAST once. I pick out my clothes solely for function. Most comfortable, and light garments, easy to remove hoodies. Thank goodness I work in a Warehouse and I can just wear sweats and t-shirts. I sleep with a fan on. I’ve positioned my bed to be close to the window so I can open it and breathe in the frozen air. I thought I’d be too cold in my little Trailer. I may have thought wrong.
I do some research and all signs point to Periomenopause. Fantastic. Because I’m not unhinged ENOUGH.
I have managed to gain some weight in the months since I moved into the house. I still have no period. Though I was unsure of wether or not I wanted children I did not expect to potentially be robbed of the choice. My partner very much wants children, I do not blame him nor do I want to rob him of this experience. I do fear that this could lead to him leaving me but so far he is still here. Do I worry that I am unknowingly pregnant? Nope. Because in order to become pregnant once must engage in a certain activity. That activity has also been MIA for quite some time. Does this cause red flags? Indeed. But again, I digress. Bigger fish to fry.
*EDIT* It has been confirmed that it is Peri menopause. It has also become clear to me that I have been ignoring my Mental Health and currently am taking some time away from that job that I so “loved” 5 years ago. I am again in search of myself and what makes me happy in life.