The Hormonal Circus

December 30th I was ready to walk in the psych hospital and tell them I needed help. I couldn’t gather myself. I wasn’t safe. I thought, I need two bullets in my head to ease the tension. Not to die but to just….my God, just relieve the tension. That was the day of two guttural screams at home that were so loud I was sure my neighbors would call the police.  Those screams and need for emotional relief were heavy. Add to that a powerful female hormonal scourge and you’ve got yourself a serious crisis. Boy was I in one. That was a dangerous day and I knew it , so I got on the phone and stated calling friends.

You know, just because women have major medical issues like Lupus, Fibromyalgia, MS, RA, Myofascial pain or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome it doesn’t mean we get to skip the normal body changes that take place. We don’t get to skip our mid-life crisis either. Regardless of health issues all women and men still take part in the  circus called life. This particular day at the circus include the following tearful , snot filled, weepy conversation with my good friend Betty.

Me: Instead of taking me to Sunday services you just left me. You left me for the Indianapolis Colts.
Betty: Well, I don’t feel bad for going to the Colts game.
Me: You left me. I really could have used a service but you just left me.
Betty: Do you want me to come over and sit with you?
Me: No. (weeping now) No.

It took about two days to cycle out of that hormonal nightmare and come back to my normal overly emotional self. The woman didn’t leave me for the Colts. As a matter of fact, any Colts fan with tickets  to that game would have gone. She had tickets, she went. What football fan would have skipped that moment? None. I was just hormonal. At the time it was the worst thing in the world, now we both laugh about it. At the time of my weeping she was most helpful when she spoke kindly to me then read a few scriptures with me one being Psalms 70:5

Psalms 70:5 But I am afflicted and poor. O God, do act quickly for me. You are my help and the Provider of escape for me. O Jehovah, do not be too late.

The part that made me cry silently was when it said, “O Jehovah, do not be too late.”  Hormonal crisis aside, sometimes I feel so taxed that it feels as if I’ve run out of all the fuel I’ve got to keep going. My head feels tight and so pressed that one more ounce of pressure and I’ll be lost….. I’ll be lost. …I’ll implode……That one part, “don’t be too late.” That’s the prayer that meant the most to me. I don’t know how many times my insiders have repeated in my head again and again, “help me. someone please help me.” They’re not really praying they’re just sort of walking around in there lost, dazed, afraid….lost. They too are tired, exhausted and in pain . They too want relief. You add the typical female hormonal stuff to their life too and they are also in need of the request for relief to …not ..be ..too ..late.

Betty and I have become really good friends and I appreciate her more than I can say.

The Indianapolis Colts won the game Betty abandoned me for. :-)  The Colts are on their way to Baltimore. Betty is not.

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