Drive-bys, Kittens, and Nausea, OH MY!

 Y'all. I hardly know where to begin. 

First, a caveat: everyone is going through SO MUCH right now. I know. I know. The election is to-fucking-morrow, Covid rates are spiking to record highs, and our collective trauma is untenable at best. It's too much for anyone. Anyone!

So with all that said, this last month has been A LOT for me. A lot. Too much. My therapist has encouraged me to write about all of it, so this will be a marathon for both of us, darling. 

Where to start? Oh I know! Let's start with my shitty reproductive system. I have endometriosis and ovarian cysts. They have made my life hell since 1993. I have tried every form of hormone therapy (ie birth control) over the years and the only thing that ever truly helped me feel human was my IUD, which I first got 6 years ago. 

My uterus basically all the time

The first insertion was hell, I was one of the unlucky few to have a worst case scenario experience. My uterus started contracting and wouldn't stop for almost 24 hours. So I've basically been in labor without the pushing or the baby. Fun! So it was painful but worth it. 

Earlier this year, the hormones in my IUD started wearing off and I started having periods again (super fun) and so I knew it was time to go in and change it, but with Covid, I was nervous to go and have put it off for months. Then RBG died and I knew I couldn't wait, so I made an appointment to go get my IUD replaced. 

This was a few weeks ago now. It did not go well. Removal wasn't great, but it happened, but then insertion of the new one? HOOBOY! Not only did my uterus immediately contract (muscle memory???), but my cervix contracted so tightly that my doc couldn't safely insert it, so we decided I'd come back later and do it under sedation. That appointment isn't until Nov 20, so they sent me home with some birth control pills to keep my hormones regulated in the meantime. 

But that pack made me nauseated like a pregnant woman. A couple days in and I couldn't eat or drink anything. I felt like hell (which just adds to my desire to never be pregnant). Also keep in mind that I'd been doing some part-time contract work for my old employer and suddenly I could barely function due to the nausea. They were nice about it, but then I could only think about all the things that were piling up for me while I felt like shit. 

Luckily, my doc switched me to the Ring, which helped my nausea abate in a few days, but the roller coaster of hormones coupled with my endo has given me hot flashes and a running fever for weeks, so much so that I was convinced I had Covid and went in to get tested on the 19th. They told me results would take 3-5 days and I told work that I could only WFH (in order to keep everyone safe) and waited. The fever kept on all week.

Also, I was scheduled to have a final interview for a full-time job on the following Friday. I told them I was waiting on Covid test results and they were very understanding and appreciative that I wasn't trying to kill them. By Thursday, however, I stillllll hadn't received my results, so they kindly rescheduled my interview and I felt terrible about it. Friday, I called and found out that they fucking LOST my sample and that I'd have to rush in to get another test (blerg). I rushed in, cut the line, and was assured that they'd expedite my results. 

I spent Saturday stressed AF about it (still having a fever and convinced I was going to die) and got my results on Sunday: Not Detected. 

But I still had a damn fever! Between some googling by my favorite family member and then confirmation by email from my doc: the fever was hormone-related. Really wish I'd figured that out sooner, yo! But I can't regret playing it safe and responsible. If I'd gotten even one person sick, I couldn't forgive myself. 

Monday I worked and then picked out my interview outfit for Tuesday (which was an in-person all-day panel) and then settled in bed to have a relaxing evening and good night's sleep so I'd be well rested for the next day. 

But at about 9 or 9:15pm, my husband and I heard rapid gunfire coming from the street in front of our home followed by the sound of a large vehicle speeding off. I jumped up and carefully ran to the window while my husband ran outside, scaring the fuck out of me (he'd wanted to make sure no one was hurt, but I was pissed that he didn't pause to even think about his own safety). 

We quickly figured out that our next door neighbors had been victims of a drive-by shooting. We had to stay up and give statements to the police, who confirmed that shots had entered the home, but nobody was hurt beyond some wood shrapnel and it was likely white supremacists targeting the house in retaliation. Retaliation for what you ask?

And okay here's where I'm nervous to share because this is national news and I want to stand up for what's right but I'm also scared of making us a target to very scary people: there is a history with that house. Our neighbor, this summer, shot and killed a white supremacist (he was then killed by police) and the backlash of that has been present in our neighborhood since. We've had police presence, reporters, and heard random mysterious gunfire. I've been very scared of both the police presence and the white supremacists and, as you can guess, since last Monday night, I've been anxious beyond belief for our safety. 

I'm sure the looming election has amped up the WS terrorism, especially in regards to our neighbors, but that only fuels my anxiety more. I don't want gun violence on any side! I don't want us killing each other! I certainly don't condone shooting anyone, even scumbag racists, especially because Nazis are violent already. I very much feel that guns are part of the problem. 

Who else needs a Panic Room RN?

So that was Monday night.  I didn't sleep at all. Then I had my all-day interview and channeled any and all energy and endorphins into that marathon, and then stumbled home and tried to pass out. I did not sleep that night. I went to work on Wednesday, had a lovely little panic attack at work, went home, didn't sleep well, and repeated that cycle for the next couple days. 

My therapist fit me in on Thursday, which was a huge help just to talk it out and create a narrative around the events of the past week and let some of my nervous energy out. She helped me feel a little more safe at home for now, or at least feel the illusion of safety. 

During that zoom with my therapist, my husband ran outside and yelled, "KITTEN!" So after my sesh, I joined him outside where I saw (and heard) a teensy kitten under our front stairs crying his head off. It took a few tries, but my husband finally grabbed him and we brought him inside to get cleaned up and fed and I did all the things to keep him isolated and set up to feel warm and safe. And then I fell in love. 

The Squeaker Himself

Poor little guy had an infected eye (possibly blind) and his back legs were either injured or underdeveloped. We're pretty sure someone dumped him in our yard. But he was so sweet and demanding. Just a little purr factory demanding our love and attention. But we don't have the time or resources to get him the medical attention he needs, so we decided to take him to the county shelter on Friday. Thursday night, though, just like a baby, he woke up every few hours and screamed until we gave him a little attention and then would pass out again. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep that night either.

Friday, we took him in and I bawled the whole time and cry every time I think about him since. I'd bonded with that little squeaker and it was very hard to hand him over. I'm sure my adoption abandonment shit was mixed in there, but I can't stop worrying that he's okay and feels safe and not abandoned. I'm bawling as I write this. I don't honestly know how people foster! I had this kitten for one day and I am a fucking wreck. I'm destroyed. I know we did the right thing, but that doesn't make it any easier. 

Then I found out I didn't get the job, which, while I was sad, I was strangely relieved by as it turned out it would be full time in-person work, which I was super nervous about due to Covid. My therapist also thinks I was relating the interview to the shooting in my mind, which is entirely possible. But I didn't get it anyway, so that's moot. And I did my best that day, so I have nothing to regret. I also feel like my body just can't work right now. I'm struggling so much to maintain any semblance of myself emotionally, but physically I feel a million times worse. I probably need to just rest. 

I did get a little sleep Friday night, but woke up super early Saturday morning and decided to lean into that and greeted Samhain with some ritual and meditation, which did help calm my mind a lot. 

Me trying to be a good witch on Samhain

But my sleep has still been pretty shit and I still get these hot flashes and my body just feels SO TIRED all the time. My head is throbbing and my bones ache. I just feel terrible. 

And then add in election anxiety and I feel fucked. How can I possibly join the resistance in response to the fascist-in-chief's inevitable coup when I can barely function in my own home? I'm avoiding social media and am purposefully avoiding the pervasive news, but that doesn't stop the fear! How can we possibly cope with it all? HOW?

Basically, to recap: my brain feels awful, my body feels awful, and I have no energy anymore and no willpower to cope with any of it. So how are you doing?