The colors

I had lofty dreams and high hopes. I was the one who 'knew the answer' and would be gun ho to get in there and get it done. Now, I am sitting on my couch, trying to talk myself into sleeping. Now, sleeping has even become something I cannot do well. I am a sensitive person, in the context of both physical and emotional. I fall down all the time, I have countless bruises and scars, that really are from the tiniest things. Like; walking to the plate to bat. Yep, I fell just walking. Emotionally, I hear what people are saying and doing, and I start to knead it. I think about it, I apply it to myself, I see if that is what I do, I go over how it was said, who said it, when, who was looking at me, who would consider it to be me. I crunch it all up until it is dust. I worked for a school I so badly wanted to be apart of. The students for the most part were genuinely good kids. I found something in all of them that I became fond of, and would miss when they left. The staff, my 'peers', never let me in. I was never good enough. I was always last picked in dodge ball. Whether it was all in my head or not, it is how I kept that kneaded ball inside. I drove every day 140 miles and tried to be friends, be someone to everyone. In the end, I was only someone to some of my kids. Not my own, but some of my students. The devastation of leaving was a toll I wasn't prepared for. I was angry. I was so angry, that was built from hurt, that I was never good enough for them. I wasn't able to be even remotely effective in the classroom, because I was so overwhelmed by the perception on the outside of it. Was it worth it? My kid begged me to come home, mu husband sick of me being tired and pissed off and gone and a shell of the person he married. We had talked about expanding our family. We were going to let it happen, if it was to happen. I knew I was getting older, and if it was going to happen, it had to be like right now right now. I am terrified of being pregnant again, but I was more terrified of losing my husband who had given up wanting a child because of my fear of having one. September comes, should be a beautiful time of year. End of summer, but cooler nights, but just a time to be thankful for the colors that are forming all around. Instead, I started bleeding. The only color I could see is red. All of the world fell around me. ok, so I wasn't going to have a baby. It was tough, and I was sure I was pregnant that time. (not like the other months that I swore I was pregnant over the last 10 years) It was heavy. My heart. My soul. My sorrow for my husband who again, would not see a son. So was the bleeding. It was scary heavy. Just to be sure, I consulted my dr's, what is going on? This is crazy. Is this how it was? Blood work. Always blood work. Again, all I see is red. Ultrasound. Always something, I see red. I am waiting. I sit in wonder, what is going on? Is there something wrong? My body begins to register the fear, and it's coming all the time. At night, during the day, while I wait for the results. It's red. I find out that I have cysts. Multiple cysts. One even the size of a mandarin on my ovary. Uh ok. Oh and by the way, you can't have children. uh what? What is going on? Here take this. And this. Take this. And this. I feel the blood pumping through my body like a river surging. Wait, what? I can't take that. I am allergic to that. Last time they told me I can't take it, my body doesn't accept it, I have one of those 'rare and serious' reactions. Oh- ok well then lose weight. Take some iron. You're anemic. You're perfectly healthy, and your body will stop bleeding when it's ready. uh what? my body is ready! There is not a spare tank, I can assure you! I bled for 26 days. It stopped for 11. I bled for 30 days. It stopped for 9. I bled for 16. I am pretty sure I am dying. The last 5 days of the 16, I can't even stand. I am shaking uncontrollably at all hours of the day. I can't walk. I can barely make it to the bathroom. My heart is pounding non stop. My fear is in my throat. Why is this happening? What is going on? I go to another dr. Ok, take this, we have to stop the bleeding! Even though I know I can't take it. I do anyway, my alternate is not a solution, it's a band aid. I take this pill for 10 days. I feel like crap. I am tired, and heavy, my heart is pounding all the time. I sweat at night, and I now have acne! Well, it stopped the bleeding. So take the acne and deal with it. I am getting ready to take over for a maternity leave, I am not bleeding anymore, I feel some normalcy creeping up, but I always have that feeling in the back of my mind, this is not right. This is not as good as it can get. I was right. Day 10, I have a massive adverse reaction to the pills. I am alone. I am scared. I am naked, covered in rags, frantically calling my mom and Sean and begging for something. Anything. My heart bangs and my head swirls. My dogs can see me lying on the floor crying. Please don't let this be it. I can't move. I keep dialing with my thumb. Pick up Pick up pick up pick up, it's all I can say in my head. Now my adrenaline as kicked in. Here comes the panic attack. Ok, breathe, count, breathe, count, Sara breathe. I can't. I can't move. Pick up. Someone pick up. I feel the heat in my ears and my head is throbbing. Drink water. Drink more water. Put it on your face, you can do it. Breathe. He picked up. Please hurry. Please. I am begging. Please. It's over 30 minutes of this state. I am shaking, I have called my dr, I can't move my head. I feel as if I am watching 3D, everything is not really as it seems. Dr thinks I may have had a stroke. SWEET. Don't take the pills anymore. Yea, caught that. Told you so. Go to dr, what now? What next? I haven't started bleeding yet, but we can assume I will. OK, here's a plan when you start. I start. I cry. I sob. I break down. All I see is red. Here I am again. Watching the world move all around me, I just want them to accept me. I sit and watch, not able to participate. I don't sleep. Nights scare me. I sweat. I wake up like I am running. I get about an hour at a time. If I am awake, I am waiting for that feeling again. The red. I can always feel it. The new plan is to wait 7 days and see what my body does. I am on day 4. I am waiting every time I feel the urge, that it's the time again. That I can't get in front again. The shakes, the heart pounding, the endless red. The scary red. The kind where you know, this isn't right. I have seen it for 5 of the 6 months. I don't see myself in the mirror. I don't see much of anything. I see my daughter not happy. I see my husband wish that I would stop. I see everyone who does know, send some sort of you should do this, or you should do that or you need this or you have to do that. Why haven't you done that. I am alone. Again. I sit and knead all those and they keep pelting me over and over. No one talks to me, they talk at me. Or about me. I am again, just someone there. People fade, they go about their lives. It's human nature. They say it's the stress. If my body can get over this state, that it can go back to normal. What is normal? My normal was stress. Is there more? I don't know. I wait. For the next urge, to see if it's more of the same, or if there is mercy in the world. I go to another dr on Tuesday. I am scared. It's my last option. I am putting all of my eggs in the basket that they will give me my colors back. I don't want red anymore.