I’d been saying for a long time that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. Mostly because of the food. And second because we usually don’t travel: we just have some friends over, gorge ourselves to beached whale status, and chill out the entire weekend.
This year was no different, except that my gynecological cycle landed me right in the middle of Thanksgiving. Fucking A. Yes, I’ve been dealing with this bullshit since I was 15 1/2, so you’d think I’d have this crap down to a science. Nope. Even with the help of meds, which keep me as regulated as they come, each encounter is still the biggest possible pain in the ass. It isn’t just the hormonal fluctuations and mood swings, it’s the aches, the cramps, the headaches, the goddamn cysts on my face, the fucking bloody mess. I get so damn sick and tired of it every single time! Ugh!!! I mean, not to get graphic, but seriously, I have ruined so many pairs of underwear and I’m just exasperated. Yes, I use products, but I don’t fucking know what is going on. My blood doesn’t flow with gravity or something, and well, like I said: a serious mess.
And then there’s the mood issue. The week before, I’m emotional as hell. The week during, I’m bloated and preoccupied with spills and stains and overall discomfort. The week after, I’m de-bloating. Essentially what all of that means is that I get one good week per month. Well, per quarter I suppose since technically, I’m flushing the system 4x/year. But even at 4x/year, this is intolerable. That’s it. No more. How bad could the ramifications of serially taking the pills one pack after the other be? Does it really matter if I fuck up my reproductive system? For my intents and purposes, the entire system is like a second appendix. No fucking purpose whatsoever. Free me of these extraneous appendages already!
I know, it sounds like I’m overreacting, but I’m telling you, I have lost my patience. Several times this month, I have found myself on the verge of flipping out. And I mean like blowing up and throwing a fucking fit! Somehow I manage to keep it together, but inside, I am ready to go ballistic. And I’ve never really had this level of rage before. Well ok, maybe with my brother. But that storyline ended back in 2003. Yup, estranged since then. Can you believe it? People always ask me about him, and they always give me this weird look when I explain that we haven’t been in touch in years. The look is so telling– like I’m being immature or shortsighted. Little do they know, if I were still in touch with him, I’d have already suffered multiple heart attacks by now. Seriously. The level of rage he triggered…
I’m so much calmer now that he is out of my life, but like I was saying, something recently has just been pushing me to the edge. It’s not the same magnitude as my what my brother used to trigger, but there’s definitely a frustration level and a feeling of exasperation and intolerance. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just listening to and dealing with all the negativity around me. Disgruntled coworkers, disgruntled Bubbey. I don’t know.
But the last few days, I’ve been feeling uber cranky and depressed. I suppose I’m in the process of de-bloating so I haven’t entered that “good” week yet. But still. I feel so grateful for my family and friends, and yet I feel sad, sometimes lonely, and dissatisfied. And I’m having serious insecurities. Earlier this month, I got that great haircut, but I can’t seem to style it. The hair just has never looked as good as that day I emerged from the stylist’s chair. Then, I’m frustrated with my wardrobe. Like I had that makeover maybe 2-3 years ago, and I’m still packing the same outfits on my travels. I’ve tried shopping to update things, but I just can’t seem to find anything really great out there, so I feel stagnant. And then my skin is still not as good as it was with the magic of Accutane, and I just feel unattractive. And on top of all that, all these issues are superficial, so I’m pissed that I’m such a vain beotch. Then I try to focus on the intellectual side of things, but when I think about my professional/intellectual development, all I see are shortcomings and inadequacies: who would even guess that I had spent THREE weeks in Spain last year. I have forgotten ALL of it. I might as well have not even gone. And the gripes just go on… I told you I was feeling negative lately.
About the only good thing I’ve been doing is hot yoga. I do feel my body is stronger and more flexible. But whoopdeedo. Shitty face, shitty clothes, blah hair, mediocre job. I dunno. I’m just in a funk.
And John’s in an even bigger funk. All his energy goes into work. Pretty much just getting to the office every day is a chore, so he has no energy to deal with anything at home, be it activities, travel plans, bills, whatever. It’s not even that I am particularly needy– I do lots of things on my own but sometimes it’s nice to be acknowledged for all my efforts. I try to be a good person. I try to be a responsive and helpful friend. I try to keep in touch with people. I try to pay attention. But sometimes I feel like I just give, give, give. And no one is really caring to give back.
Like earlier this month, I emailed three long lost friends. I told them I was thinking about them. One actually called me two days later, so that was good. But two took about 2-3 weeks to reply to my email. Both have smartphones. Seriously, what’s the excuse?
And then no one ever comes to visit. I mean, we’ve been in California now since 2006, and aside from my parents, maybe only 1 person has visited just to see us, not because they just so happened to be in the area for work, conference, job interview, etc. I don’t know, but if I don’t get “something” from my profession or from my relationships with people or from myself, what is supposed to sustain me?
Ugh. Time for a shower and then I’m going to bed. Tomorrow’s a new day.