Sooo...yesterday's wallowing spiraled completely out of control into a complete nervous breakdown.
I don't even know how or why it happened. I was perfectly fine all afternoon.
Around 7:00 PM, we went to take Binks and Bear for a walk. Halfway through the walk, I noticed a weird pain in my right calf and I kept bending down to squeeze it in case it was a muscle thing. It wouldn't go away and it would get sharper when I took a step. Finally, I pulled my pant leg up to see if anything was going on and it really looked pretty normal. It wasn't red or swollen. It sort of looked like I had a patch of spider veins just below my knee though.
Of course my brain goes straight to "Oh my God - I'm on BCPs, I have a blood clot". I know. It's not normal to think that way. I've never pretended to be normal.
Seth looked at it and told me to calm down. He told me to just breathe and relax, it's fine. Of course, that made me start hyperventilating. Being told to breathe is a sure way to make that impossible. I started getting dizzy and short of breath (funny how the symptoms of a blood clot - or whatever you're worried about - are exactly the same as the symptoms of an anxiety attack).
So we got home and Seth jumped on the computer to do the Dr. Google thing and I went to look at the drug information packet for my pills. There's a section on there titled "Death from Birth Control". I scanned through it and saw the odds of death (25 or 40 deaths out of 100,000 - why not me?) and the possible indicators of a blood clot (pain in the calf) and I started crying and asking Seth to please take me to the hospital. I'm absolutely terrified of blood clots. In my mind, you really don't stand a chance against them.
So we went. I was shaking like crazy and my blood pressure was wild. They put me back in one of the little rooms and stuck me with an IV needle to check my electrolytes.
Then I started to relax. I started thinking more clearly. I knew those feelings. Anxiety is nothing new to me. It's never been so bad that I let myself think that I needed to go to the ER. That part is a first for me. As I sat there and waited for them to do an ultrasound on my leg (which was all clear) I felt so stupid and so embarrassed. At that point, I was absolutely sure that nothing was wrong with me. Nothing physical anyway.
I just cried from the humiliation and from anger. I was so angry. If I wasn't infertile I wouldn't be on the stupid pills. I wouldn't be so overwhelmed by so much pressure. I hate IF and I hate what I'm letting it do to me. I'm so, so angry. Fuck you, IF.
I'm glad that I'm fine, but I'm not fine. Fine people don't go to the ER because of anxiety. I have no idea what I'm going to do about it though. I feel like there's no going back. The quickest way to get through this is to keep moving forward. It has to be.