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Ugh. This has been a crappy crappy week all round. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had a week where I have just wanted to find the nearest cave and crawl into it, snuggle up with the bears.
For some reason I am still incredibly exhausted, though being back working out at the gym every couple of days has been helping contrary to what I initially thought. Being this tired has not been good for my mental health. I have never felt sooo close to going back on my anti-depressants in a long time. Either that or drinking a huge vat of vodka (how many calories is that anyway?).
At the beginning of the week, I was in the shower and found a lump under my arm/top side of my breast. A sizeable lump. Pea size? It’s certainly not the first time I’ve found a lump, not the first time that I’ve had pause for thought. But, this is the first time that I’ve found one in that location. The first time that I couldn’t immediately dismiss it as “another one of those annoying lumps and bumps in my admittedly fibrous breasts”. I’ve never had one there before.
Now, any normal person would have hightailed it to the doctor, been examined, possibly sent for a scan and dealt with it from there on. But, in case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m not just any normal person. In fact, I firmly believe that normal is a cycle on the washing machine. That’s by the by though.
Being the ABnormal, freakish person that I am, I prefer to sit and stew and stress about things for as long as physically possible. Usually until my loving husband puts me into the car and forces me to confront the issue at hand. In this case, my health. But seeing as I haven’t yet told HIM what I found, here I sit, still stewing, still stressing.
Yes yes, I know. The obvious answer that I know you’re all thinking of is “well duh, get off your ass and get to the doc”. And that’s just what I will do. On Monday.
Since I found said lump, my stress levels have gotten higher and inevitably this has affected other areas of my life. I’ve been overly snappish with my children lately. I’ve let it creep into the way I deal with friends and have somewhat overreacted a couple of times to things that were not initially as big as they have now become. Which of course prompts the same response from them, and it becomes this never ending, viscious circle.
Could this really all stem from one teeny tiny lump? Yes. I don’t deal well with stress. Stress manifests itself in nasty, horrible, Freddy Kreuger/Mike Myers sort of ways. I become this raging bitch in my relationships with other people and when I finally take a moment and suck in that calming breath, I look at the fallout from all of this and it just makes me cry.
I often wonder when I have a cold, how so much fluid could possibly come out of one person. I wonder the same thing when I end up on a crying jag like I have the last couple of days. Nothing says “I’m sexy, come to bed” to your husband more than red puffy eyes and a bitchy disposition.
Damn bodies and their quirks. Who ever would have thought that one tiny pea size lump could cause quite so much havoc, hurt, distrust, unhappiness and STRESS in one week. In one person’s life, to flow into others.
I will be seeing the doc on Monday. Over the weekend, I will try and deal with all of this in a better way. I will go to Weight Watchers and be DOWN. I will go to the gym and torture myself on the Eliptical Trainer. I will sleep and then on Sunday I will go to brunch with my best girlfriends (well most of them, sadly one or two won’t be there). And then I will look that doctor in the face on Monday and DARE her to tell me there’s anything more than a cyst in there.
WooooooSaaahhhhhhh.
To my children, I’m sorry Mommy’s a raging maniacal monster this week. I love you.
To all the people I’ve snapped at or bitched out or glared at in the grocery store this week, well……yeah.
To my husband…I’ll be back to my abnormal weirdo self soon. I love you babe!
