Oh How I Hate Hormonal and Chemical Imbalances

Since my paycheck has been cut by half and the darned disability check hasn't been processed yet, I have tried to cut corners wherever I can, including my Hormone Replacement Therapy and anti-depressant, which I have been on for years. BAD MOVE...let me repeat that...BAD, BAD MOVE. I don't know which is worse, the internal burning and hot flashes that sneak up on me, waking up in a bed of sweat so much so that I could have drown, being just downright mean and snappy and cranky, or crying at EVERYTHING imaginable for absolutely no reason at all and the inevitable anxiety attack that is coming on....

Do you know how helpless feeling it is to have a patch and a pill make such a profound difference in your everyday life?

I had done really well, until yesterday. Maybe it was because I only got 4 hours of sleep Saturday night or that it all just came crashing down, but nevertheless, it hit me. It was 9pm, I was exhausted but determined to go get my baby girl who missed me so much that she didn't want to spend another minute with her dad and grandma, that she begged me to come get her as soon as they drove in from the beach. I had been working on school work all day, living on little sleep and was tired but I was going to get my girl. Anyhow, I was 5 minutes down the road listening to Delilah on the radio station. A woman was telling a story about her son who had been seriously injured and wanted a song dedicated to him. The song was "He's my son". Well, that song just said everything I want say to him and what I want him to know. We've had some rough times the lat couple of years and he's made some terrible decisions about his life, but he's my son and I love him and worry about him so much. He also suffers from depression and I can tell he is at an all time low right now, much of which is his own fault because he won't take his meds.

Anyhow, this song was the straw that broke the camel's back and the tears flowed and fowed and flowed until no end. So what did I do? I called the hubby to download that song and broke down telling him the name and he freaked out (probably because he knows when the boohoos start there is a mega anxiety attack coming very soon and those send him over the edge). Bad mistake, I guess but I just wanted the song.

So I travel an hour to get SR and back and hour talking and catching up. It was good to see and hear her sweet face and voice. But when I get home, my husband is NOWHERE to be found.... we search all over, his vehicles are in the driveway, his gun, badge and phone are in his "spot" but he is not under the bed or in the closet or any other place we frantically looked. I called his partner, called my neighbor, and was about to call the sheriff department (as my daughter was crying, "call 911 for an adult amber alert, quick"). We were getting frantic. Then, as I go into the bedroom (which I had searched 4 times), there he was, curled up under the covers in the bed. I was livid, the girls started crying and he just didn't have a clue what he had done. He had been sitting outside by the pool and snuck in and went to bed without a hello, here I am, nothing. Can I say again that I was livid. He said that he was out there thinking because he wanted to know why I was boohooing. Can't I just get emotional about a song and a son without the world coming to an end?

Then to make matters worse, after I got to bed about midnight, my baby comes in my room crying telling me she was sick to her stomach. I gave her some Pepto but she returned the favor by projectile vomiting all over the bathroom floor, just 2 feet from the TOILET!!! Oh, I really didn't need that. Needless to say, it was another long night with very little sleep.

It's a good thing school is over in 3 days and I can get some rest. The weekends are killing me as much as the weekdays.....