At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Coming off of the pill is fucking horrible.
Needless to say, today was not good. It literally feels like every hormonal onslaught I've avoided for the last four years is crashing in upon me. I knew that being on the pill was regulating my hormones – it was apparent from the get go that I was one of the women whose hormones were regulated on the pill rather than sent whacko. But now it means everything is going ape shit on me. I haven’t felt this type of weepy apathy in years. It feels like everything inside of me was first ratcheted up to 1,000 and then abruptly turned off.
First I was angry and stressed for most of the day. Literally everything went wrong with registration for my summer directed study course that could go wrong. Forms hadn't been turned in correctly, administrators didn't reply to emails with information, and other administrators would only tell me what I needed to know after I sent them multiple emails and left two voice messages. Then when it finally got figured out, I just turned into a big ball of tears and I've been crying for the last two hours. I forgot what it feels like to want to hide from yourself.
That's the worst of it. That's the worst part of PMS – the almost maddening desire to get away from yourself, to escape from yourself. The feeling that somewhere, outside of yourself, you know that it's ok. But for now, you are your own worst prison. A ball of furry, shame, or sorrow, interchangeably surrounding your best held dreams and decimating them before your eyes. And what's worse – you know you will not stay your enemy. You know that once that release comes, all will be right. But nothing, nothing you do in the moment can bring that physical, animal sense of release. Only blood will do so. Just hold on to then and then the chemical balance will come, and you will know when it does come. Until then, only Jesus.
About the Project
This is a very personal project. It tracks my growth and development as I journeyed toward motherhood over the recent years. It doesn't document every experience I had, and probably neglects my more joyful and peaceful moments in the frenzy of trying to communicate my fears, anxieties, and doubts. If you are a friend or loved one, please do not let anything you read here overshadow what you know of me personally. If you are a stranger, please remember that a living and flawed person stands behind these words. To all my guests here, please understand these are not political statements and try to extend me grace, even as I share my failures and foibles - I have repented of much of what I share. I don't share this journal as an exemplar, but rather out of the desire to share my hope that entrance to motherhood does not need to be a fearful thing - despite the very real fears I have fought against. Motherhood is simply a part of life and one through which I am discovering more of myself and my God.