Upps, here it comes.
It's a Law in Physics: for every manically hyper upswing, there has to be an equal and opposite manic downswing.
The last two days I have been hyperactive. Crazy, bored and bouncing off the walls. I spent a good hour last night doing jumping jacks and racing up and down the stairs trying to work off some of the mania. Oh, yeah.. and the dance party. For those of you who came to my party, thanks. It was fun, huh?
But after an entire day of roller coaster mania, UUUUUUUP... dowwwwwn. UUUUUUP... dowwwwn. I am now at a lull.
I went out with Brad tonight. We hit Dailey's Martini and Cigar Bar. Didn't puff down a stogey, but I did think about it. I drank a few and proceeded to feel like holy wretched hell. We are now home and I feel like...
(You guys could fill in the rest...)
Yes, I feel like crying. Boo-fucking-hoo. The equal and opposite to crazy manic hyperactivity. It comes as either a chemical imbalance and as a form of traumatic exhaustion. Guess which one fits me?
I have one more week until I will get the much needed hope I have been looking for since before my last pregnancy. Next Friday is our consultation appointment with 3rd Opinion RE. I truly believe in "try, try again." If you don't like the answers here.. fuck'em. Look for answers elsewhere. I hope to have surgery. I hope to have HOPE. I hope to have someone look at me, say "I am so sorry, let me help." I need this, and it sucks that I need it. It sucks that I rely on someone so much to tell me things will be ok, because in all honesty, I lack the ability to tell myself this anymore.
Will things be ok? I don't know. If experience is all I have to judge by, then I'd have to say no. I sincerely hope experience isn't all that matters.
Come on, 3rd Opinion RE. Please be Gold.
The last two days I have been hyperactive. Crazy, bored and bouncing off the walls. I spent a good hour last night doing jumping jacks and racing up and down the stairs trying to work off some of the mania. Oh, yeah.. and the dance party. For those of you who came to my party, thanks. It was fun, huh?
But after an entire day of roller coaster mania, UUUUUUUP... dowwwwwn. UUUUUUP... dowwwwn. I am now at a lull.
I went out with Brad tonight. We hit Dailey's Martini and Cigar Bar. Didn't puff down a stogey, but I did think about it. I drank a few and proceeded to feel like holy wretched hell. We are now home and I feel like...
(You guys could fill in the rest...)
Yes, I feel like crying. Boo-fucking-hoo. The equal and opposite to crazy manic hyperactivity. It comes as either a chemical imbalance and as a form of traumatic exhaustion. Guess which one fits me?
I have one more week until I will get the much needed hope I have been looking for since before my last pregnancy. Next Friday is our consultation appointment with 3rd Opinion RE. I truly believe in "try, try again." If you don't like the answers here.. fuck'em. Look for answers elsewhere. I hope to have surgery. I hope to have HOPE. I hope to have someone look at me, say "I am so sorry, let me help." I need this, and it sucks that I need it. It sucks that I rely on someone so much to tell me things will be ok, because in all honesty, I lack the ability to tell myself this anymore.
Will things be ok? I don't know. If experience is all I have to judge by, then I'd have to say no. I sincerely hope experience isn't all that matters.
Come on, 3rd Opinion RE. Please be Gold.
2 Comments:
For my own two cents (not that you should care) I think you're doing the absolute right thing. A new RE is in order - and one who thinks the first line of business is exploratory surgery to really SEE what's going on.
After grrl's news, I don't trust HSGs as the tell-all holy grail anymore.
And comfort with the all powerful RE is CRUCIAL.
Can I type ONE more thing in caps?
JULIA
I hope the consult goes well. I wish I could give you some of the hope that I have for you and Brad. I am praying and sending good vibes your way everyday.
Evelin
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