Have I lost eggs? 3.12.19

I don’t know if I can find the words to share my terror. I keep thinking about people who are told they only have a matter of months left. I think about what that would REALLY feel like. For the first time ever, I can step into that fear and see it from that perspective. When I empathize or try to understand someone’s position, I try to actually shift into the perspective of their world. I can’t always do it. Sometimes my emotions get in the way of trying to feel what THEY would be feeling.

I’ve never been this scared before. Ever.

I can’t lose eggs. I know I can get them in me still. But they used to be safer than they are now. What is going on inside of me?!?!?!?!?!?? What the FUCK? And why is it taking so damn long to get answers? Why aren’t some of these doctors taking me seriously? My goodness. My chart reads like a disaster map. Sometimes they stutter at the beginning of the appointments and say they don’t even know where to start.

Which I get! I totally respect the ones who say that out loud. How am I even still alive? I wonder this all of the time. When I’m in a cerebral / spiritual mindset, I can tell myself that whatever mission I’m here for isn’t done yet. I have things I’m still here to do.

But when I’m sucked down back into the terror of the human experience, I feel lost as fuck. I feel like I might be losing my mind. I can’t make basic decisions, or big ones. I’m starting to farm those out to people I trust. I can’t manage so many things I used to take for granted.

I don’t even know how I’m writing in here and hopefully, making some sense. How do I make sense of ANY OF THIS? How does ANYONE? How am I even a coherent person at all after what I’ve been through.

I made a terrible decision this weekend about my health. My mom is still telling me never to do it again. I can’t share it yet. It was a really bad decision. I didn’t used to make such bad ones.

I’m afraid I’m going to accidentally hurt myself. For the record, IT IS NEVER MY INTENTION. No way. If I go, I’m having a big ole bash first. Telling everyone I love them. Living it up as much as possible.

I would never leave the children without talking to them and leaving them gifts, and videos and letters. Never.

But what if I fuck shit up? What if I waited too long to get my crew in place? What if I spent too much of my life force energy whatever you want to call it, on saving the country? What if I didn’t leave enough to keep myself going?

I tell myself that it’s just been too many days without food. Too many days with a flu bug. That’ll mess with your head. The dreams I had while I was feverish…I can’t remember them, but I know they were super weird.

All I can sense now? The next chapter is going to be a doozy. I keep saying that to myself. And then it gets even worse than I’ve already experienced.

I’m not sensing what’s “normal” anymore. What is ok. What should I be doing next. I fake it well. Of course, I do my requisite emails to the doctors and email with my volunteers.

But inside, I’m screaming: OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?

I wonder now. Which is worse. A long, slow death. Or a quick one. I think most people would guess quick one. The anticipation in this case is NOT enjoyable. It’s like watching a horror movie all day long where the scenes all look normal, but you know something very bad is about to happen. I’m on edge all the time.

On top of that, my dad has a clot in his leg. I watched him collapse on the floor last night, gasping in pain. My dad does not collapse on the floor and complain of pain.

This guy. He doesn’t do that. He already went to the ER yesterday and he’s FINALLY on blood thinners - something I’ve been asking for months now but of course, doctors don’t listen to me - so we just called his doctor. He had to go to bed with that pain in his leg. Obviously, none of us knowing if that clot will break off and kill him overnight before the blood thinners do their job.

My dad isn’t supposed to have clots. He is a runner for pete’s sake! He is in better shape than EASILY 98% of other Americans, far younger than him too.

All I know is that I have a very bad feeling. The terror is not knowing what it’s for.

I believe I can make it through this. Whatever is happening to my body. Whatever is happening everywhere.

I couldn’t keep pressing forward if I didn’t believe that.

But I see some hell between now and then. I will have to completely surrender to being taken care of by others. I can see that now. I don’t trust my decisions right now.

At least I have the bandwidth to realize that.

Thank goodness I started blogging here. Keeps me tethered. Somewhere to go with all these maddening thoughts and the fear.

Much love,

Jules