The Dark Passenger Shows Her Ugly Face

So, yeah, my disclaimer for this post: This is written through a haze of raging female hormones that are making my “Dark Passenger” show her worst this week. So, please know that here in a few days when all the hormones subside, this week will seem like 80% less awful than it does right now.

So, this week has been so much crap! It seems like every day something has gone wrong for me – and dealing with this stupid stupid hormone crap on top of it is making me either scream at people for no good reason, or cry like a 2 year old.

First, last week I discovered an error I had made at work. I don’t want to go into details, it’s not a big deal in the end, but my boss decided that after he had previously told me not to worry about it, that he needed to come back on Monday morning and kick me in the proverbial nuts. Now, I have a great boss overall, as long as you can anticipate his moods. He just sometimes says things, and you have to know that he’s just talking. Well, he apparently had worked himself up about something else, and took out his frustration on me by calling me up and telling me that this error was HUGE and that “you know it’s your fault, right?”

Well, what else could I say besides “yes sir, I do.” I mean, I did, I had told him what I had done the second I realized it. Again, all is fine now, and I still think I have a good boss compared to what I’ve had before, and he’s apologized since then.

BUT, at that moment in time, the first thing Monday morning…after hanging up the phone I ran to the bathroom because I knew I was losing my composure. I had to go and have myself a good cry in the stall. The sad thing is, I’ve recently started wearing mascara. I never was really a big mascara person, but I guess with the weight loss I’ve been spending a little more time getting prettiefied in the mornings. So, yeah. I had my first ever cry-off-mascara moment. It’s not very pretty.

That was the start of my week. Since then it’s been working with my team to re-work things to correct the error (we are a little over halfway done, so all is well!).

Tuesday was ok – still lost of residual crap going on at work, but I managed to be ok.

Yesterday it was time to start yelling at Brad apparently. Brad is in school, as I’ve mentioned, 150 miles away. He will graduate in December, move back here with me, and all will be well as far as feeling like a family again. In the meantime, I was looking forward to the summer, where Brad would be here for the month of June and July. Well, he’s also been working on an extra project, where he would be teaching a class in May – it looks great on his attempt to get into Grad school, he’ll get paid, and he’s uber excited about it. I was excited for him.

That is until yesterday he mention all causal-like that the class now goes through the end of June.

I lost it on him there. I was very upset, I was upset that we lose a month, and upset that apparently his excitement of teaching the class made him forget to be disappointed that he wouldn’t be here for June. Irrational? Yes. Did I care? Not so much.

Of course “normal” ladies with “normal” hormone insanity will think this is all “normal.” But as I’ve mentioned, I’ve never really had to deal with PMS, since my cycles were all screwed up, and it seems that post-miscarriage, the hormones I take to regulate this lovely process effect me even more than they did before. Brad and I are trying to deal with this 3rd person in our marriage – this Dark Passenger who is kinda evil.

So, I apologized to Brad, he apologized for being a guy….and then we repeated the whole process later that night when something else he said made me go crazy again.

I told Brad – it’s like as this is happening I’m watching myself in the third person and seeing how crazy I’m acting, but not being able to stop it.

So today. Today I woke up hopeful for a normal day (and praying to big G that my freaking period would just get here already and release all this hormonal bs!)…I make it out the door for work, drive about 2 miles, and my brother calls. Apparently my mother is in the hospital. Again.

As far as I can tell right now, all is OK. Apparently my mother doesn’t understand when the docs are telling her to eat a bland diet. After a couple of days of feeling better, she starts eating things that set off her myriad of things that she’s got going on in her colon. So, she woke up in the middle of the night throwing up, and finally my dad called an ambulance this morning. I think that’s the part that scared me the most, that they called an actual ambulance instead of driving.

But, I’ve talked to my dad and it seems she’s doing OK. They are running tests and hydrating…sounds like they will just need to smack her down about her eating.


I really am not a dramatic person. I don’t revel in being surrounded by drama. All of this craziness is making me go…well…crazy.

If ever there was a week to cheat on this diet, it was this one. I didn’t.

If ever there was a week to have an excuse not to exercise it’s this one. I didn’t give in, swimming for the 3rd time this week tonight.

Technically I cheated last night – I was so mad at Brad after finding out he wouldn’t be here in June that I had 2 cups of unscheduled broccoli. Ha! How’s crazy is that? I cheated with broccoli.

Yeesh. Ok, now that I’ve verbally vomited all over the place, I’m getting back to work.

I DO have one shameless plug for this week, my good friend at work has a band, and I’m helping him put together new graphic materials for their Facebook page. You should check them out, if for no other reason than to look at my pretty graphics! Of course if you “like” their page as well, I’m sure they would appreciate it.  😉


1 Comment

Filed under Achievement, exercise, mental, personal, rant, [in]fertility

One response to “The Dark Passenger Shows Her Ugly Face

  1. It’s your blog, sweeets. Vomit away if it feels good. 🙂

    I think having ONE thing in control when all else is nutso is healing in a way. I find that with eating, when i was out of control there, other things cascaded. I think the fact that you held on when you were BOMBARDED is wonderful. It says, “No, this ground ain’t yielding. I’m Queen of This Action, when other things are Chaos.” Proud of you. Keep the strength. All this will pass. The boss will praise you for something soon. Your beloved will be here soon. Crap passes. Fact of life. (Until new crap crops us, but at least, in between, you get blissful moments.)

    Go, you!

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