Monday, February 7, 2011

Drama queen

Today was meltdown day #9,393,239,338 for me.

I missed the 4:30 a.m. wake up call to hit up the run with Kevin. Actually, I didn’t miss the blaring alarm on my iphone. I heard it. I got up. Put the lights on. Attempted to move around.

Then sat down on the bathroom floor and fell asleep.

Yup.

Epic fail.

This is coming from the trainer who woke up continuously at 3 - 3:30 a.m. for months and years without skipping a beat. Early mornings have never been a problem to me. In fact, I have always loved waking up before dawn. I was one of those annoying people that could jump around and smile hours before the sun came up. My clients would give me the “I hate how chirpy you are at this hour” face as I greeted them at 4 a.m. with, “wakey, wakey!”.

But not anymore. Now, I’m exhausted all the time. The mornings are a battle to get up. I feel like a bus is on top of me, weighing my body down. The days drag on. I find myself praying for the night time--for when I can finally lay down again. When the sun sets, all I can do is beg to sleep--pray the hot flashes subside and the pain fades enough for me to rest.

Please, God, let me sleep. 

Insomnia takes its toll. Just like the Lupron does on my emotions.

Cry. Cry. Cry.

I’m an emotional basket case, dragging myself around, begging to get through the day. I spent a good hour on the floor in my bedroom today, trying to gain the strength to move.

Get. Back. Up.

I tell myself over and over.

I did manage to get my 6 miles of running in today. My body isn’t too thrilled with it, but I managed.

At least I was smiling in this pic :)
The running was hard, but I was happy.

Thank you, Lord, that I can run again. 

But just as soon as my heart rate calmed down, the flood of tears took over.

Cry. Cry. Cry.

I went to get my passport renewed for a spring break trip. The manager at the photoshop was a hottie. But I had snot pouring down my nose and puffy, water-filled eyes. I’m pretty sure I looked like I had been cutting onions for hours--or crying for hours. He kept asking me if I wanted to take a new picture. “Maybe try to smile?”, he asked.

I told him it was fine. I was fine.

Cry. Cry. Cry.

I could have sworn the world was ending today. But I was wrong.

It was just me, being dramatic about everything--passport photos, eating, studying, writing, moving, sleeping, training, running, and praying pleading.

In the words of my best friend, Kate, who shares my world of emotions daily,
"Life would be less dramatic if I could just stop dramatizing everything”. 


Yeah, I agree.

I am definitely a drama queen.

2 comments:

  1. Aww. You're not a drama queen. Hormones just have a crazy way of making us... crazy, for lack of a better term.

    Thinking of you.

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  2. Not too much longer and it will all be over and will be leaving your system. I hated the crying!

    ReplyDelete