Last night I didn't write because some things are happening with my roommate that are stressful and scary. An important program that helped him a lot is in jeopardy and we're not sure what is going to happen yet. It's funny because a month ago yesterday I wrote about how I could handle it when things screw up and it is something I did, but feel really powerless and awful when things are going wrong and it is beyond my control. He's in the same situation right now. I feel for him and I hope it gets resolved.
It's been about a month since my trip to the ER. Things have slowed and are better. You'll notice I'm not just exclusively writing about the blood gushing from my body. That doesn't mean I feel free and clear about the issue. I still spend my life with tampons and pads happening all the time. They're not flooding every five minutes, but I'm not free of them either. I don't think that I will be free of them until something medical happens. It sucks because that means until the medical stuff can proceed, I have to live with a lot of insecurity.
It's really exhausting to constantly be analyzing what your body is doing, questioning if things look bloated, worrying at any out of place feeling. In some ways my life has returned to normal, but because I have this paranoia about the whole thing, part of me may never feel normal again. My therapist said I would get used to it, but I'm scared to. I worry of I let my guard down, the bleeding will start all over again. And yes, I know that is irrational.
It all goes back to the Hierarchy of Needs though. Those Security needs are very basic. So many people spend so much of their lives with little safety that when what small bits they do have (like my roommate's program, like my ability to not bleed all the time) are gone, you almost don't know how to function. Without security, part of you doesn't want to function. You can't be your true self because that fear is weighing on you. You can't escape it, not until it is solved.
And if you've seen a lot of security slip through your fingers over the years, part of you wonders if you can ever get it back.
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