There go my marbles...

I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind. At least, that's how I'm feeling lately. I told you in my last post that I was sick. Physically. Today I realized that I'm really sick. Mentally. I had already suspected this prior to today. I haven't really been well for the past year + since the miscarriage, but it's been fairly manageable and hasn't been directly affecting my every day life. Over the past few weeks, though, perhaps even the past few months (since the IVF dx), it's been getting progressively worse, to the point that I called last week and made an appointment to see a psychologist tomorrow evening. Well, things took a solid turn for the worse today.

I turned the corner yesterday afternoon as far as my cold was concerned. I was feeling a lot better and even made dinner for the two of us last night. This morning I woke up feeling a little bit apprehensive about going back to work. I got my coffee, and started my morning routine like I always do. When I got out of the shower I started sobbing uncontrollably. I kept trying to pull my shit together, but I would just end up sobbing again. I managed to get dressed, still sobbing on and off through it all, then I just sat down on my bedroom floor and gave up. I was crying, and crying, and for a little while I was having a hard time breathing - very short, quick breaths were all I could do. I finally had calmed down enough at 9am (40 minutes after I got out of the shower) to call downstairs to my husband, who was working from home this morning so he could meet the furnace guy (thank you, fates). He called our insurance hotline to try to figure out what the hell we should do. Their only advice was to go to the ER or urgent care, so we decided the ER was too extreme, we'd go to urgent care.

What a joke.

They were fast, I'll give them that, but helpful? No, I wouldn't say that. They called me back, a nurse took my history, then left me waiting in the exam room, where I proceeded to have another mini panic attack. After about 10 minutes a PA came in, talked to me a little, asked me was I pregnant (seriously?), then when I told her no, I was sure I wasn't, she had the nerve to ask if I'd taken a pregnancy test - how did I know I wasn't pregnant? Ugh. This was after I'd already told her our IUI had been cancelled this month. I was too upset to punch her in the nose, but I think I should have. I'd probably feel a little better now. Now that I think about it...I think she asked me at one point if we were trying to get pregnant...after I'd told her all of my anxiety was related to miscarriage, infertility and infertility treatments. Can we say incompetent? Say it with me...in-com-pe-tent.

I digress...sorry. In the end, she told me she was unable to prescribe any medication, but that I might want to see a doctor who could prescribe medication (funny, I thought that's why I'd come here....) and gave me some papers on how to deal with anxiety and how to do relaxation techniques (close your eyes and go to your happy place - I'm not kidding, it's in there), a phone number that I could call to get the number for a doctor (who can prescribe me medication) and the number for the area's mental health crisis hotline.

I called the hotline when we got home, thinking I wished we'd had that number this morning. They asked me if I was suicidal or felt like hurting someone. I said no (though I was thinking of what I'd like to do to the urgent care PA), I told them I have an appointment to see a therapist for the first time tomorrow evening, and she said good - ask that therapist to give you a referral for a psychiatrist (I assume because they can....you guessed it - prescribe medication).

Unwilling to give up, or perhaps because I like taking dead end road after dead end road, I decided to try calling the number to find a primary care doctor. I got three numbers and called them. The first clinic didn't have any appointments until November, the second clinic somehow dropped my call before it even connected with anyone, and the third clinic didn't have any appointments until December.

I've also tried calling the psychologist I'm meeting tomorrow night and my RE's office. I had to leave messages with both and have yet to hear back from either.

I guess now I just wait until my appointment tomorrow evening...and keep my fingers crossed that she's got more to offer me than handouts and false leads.  And hope that I still have a job whenever I feel well enough to actually go back (this is the 4th day in two weeks that I've missed, and I don't get PTO).

Someday I'll have something happy and uplifting to post, I hope. We all know what a downer all of this IF BS is, though, right? If there weren't so many unhappy things to post about, I doubt we'd all be blogging about it and hanging out on websites dedicated to it.