The worst week of my life
This title is not me being dramatic at all.
I had the saddest week of my life the week of March 1st. It was the week of someone realizing they are 1% of a population, and not the good kind of 1% like the 1% that will forever eat whatever they want and have the body I work out at Orangetheory to strive for. And not the 1% of people whom have so much money and did nothing to get it...can I be a Kardashian yet? (Much love for them though...Season 13 where ya at?!)
More like the 1% of people who's body rejects prosthesis(fake bones) and goes completely deaf in their left ear...*raises hand*
More like the 1% of people whom get the side effect of horrible excruciating bathroom (number 2 ya'll) pain and "cleansing" after taking antibiotics for a cold...*raises hand*
I should have none, I have always been that lonely 1% of people that get the poop end of the stick...no pun intended...actually that was totally intended. I also am the part of the 1% of women that like to talk about bathroom functions and have no shame in it.
This week was devastating. So much so that I had panic attacks everyday to the point one may say I hit rock bottom. In fact I was deteriorating. The epitome of a breakdown. If I was hitting menopause at the ripe age of 26 that meant that my ovaries were failing on me. That meant life as I knew it and hoped it to be would be over. If this was true that meant I would become part of the 1% of women who got the "sh** end of the stick"....And that stunk.
I had the saddest week of my life the week of March 1st. It was the week of someone realizing they are 1% of a population, and not the good kind of 1% like the 1% that will forever eat whatever they want and have the body I work out at Orangetheory to strive for. And not the 1% of people whom have so much money and did nothing to get it...can I be a Kardashian yet? (Much love for them though...Season 13 where ya at?!)
More like the 1% of people who's body rejects prosthesis(fake bones) and goes completely deaf in their left ear...*raises hand*
More like the 1% of people whom get the side effect of horrible excruciating bathroom (number 2 ya'll) pain and "cleansing" after taking antibiotics for a cold...*raises hand*
I should have none, I have always been that lonely 1% of people that get the poop end of the stick...no pun intended...actually that was totally intended. I also am the part of the 1% of women that like to talk about bathroom functions and have no shame in it.
This week was devastating. So much so that I had panic attacks everyday to the point one may say I hit rock bottom. In fact I was deteriorating. The epitome of a breakdown. If I was hitting menopause at the ripe age of 26 that meant that my ovaries were failing on me. That meant life as I knew it and hoped it to be would be over. If this was true that meant I would become part of the 1% of women who got the "sh** end of the stick"....And that stunk.
Allison,
ReplyDeleteYou are so strong, I am so proud of you for being so positive. You have always been such a sweet, funny girl; and I know the future will be brighter for you than it is for most people!
-Tara Swanson
Tara,
DeleteThose words are so heartfelt! Thanks so much! I've come up out of the dark cloud and see the sun! This life is short, so to be anything not less then positive (for too long) will be a waste!
13 years past my own "worst week" and as I read your words I sooooo wish blogs and Facebook had been mainstream back then! I was so desperate to connect with others like me that I was driving 3-4 hours to poorly attended support group meetings held by sympathetic doctors. Sad times! No one with a POF diagnosis is lucky, but those diagnosed in the age of social media will have the benefit of support from soooo many women walking their same path. It's wonderful and will only help to strengthen them and shorten their time in the dark lonely places. Thanks for putting this out there!
ReplyDeleteThat is my exact goal with this blog...to help women like us feel welcome and not alone. What we have to go through with this diagnosis is not fun at all, but the women we meet and the stories we here fill me with strength and positivity!
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