I can’t believe I’m at the end of my second trimester. These months seem to have flown by compared to my first trimester even though I was still going through some significant symptoms. The biggest being my mood swings – oh boy, they have come full frontal in these months. Trying to calm myself down during these swings has been nothing but challenging, but the worst was when my husband went out of town to work for several days. I was utterly overwhelmed by everything in general; housekeeping, cooking, etc. I didn’t realize how much I relied on secondary help until it was no longer available for me – I cried, panicked and did something I usually didn’t do. I reached out to numerous friends, telling them “I’m not OK.” I didn’t bother going into more detail than that because I couldn’t even put into words what was going through my head. I’m lucky that a friend who lives close by decided to drop in to check up on me – even though it was a short visit, I was able to put into words how anxious I was and immediately felt a weight lift off of me.
A sense of community during pregnancy is KEY to surviving any turmoil
Healthwise, I’ve been gaining weight appropriately and eating everything in sight. I still get some morning sickness (once or twice a month), but this is considered normal even though I could happily do without it. My cravings have been interesting, nothing out of the blue per se but I have noticed the types of food I’m craving all come from my childhood: PB&J, Kraft Dinner, Cinnamon Rolls (Just to name a few!) I am loading up on everything carb and not regretting a single bite. Curious to know if there’s any correlation or connection with childhood foods and pregnancy!
Unfortunately, the bigger I get, the more uncomfortable I am. Aside from the daily ligament & back pains, little Spawn is moving at a gargantuan rate, and my sleeplessness has come back. Even though I know it’s due to the pregnancy my anxious mind likes to set up camp during these times. I’m overthinking everything and lucky if I get 6 hours during a work week. Kudos to all women who still work full-time while pregnant! I feel as if I’m struggling most days to be present. My exhaustion has improved vastly from my last post but it’s still here, and I still hate it. I try to push through it the majority of the time, but there are certain days when I just sit on my couch for hours, watching terrible Hallmark movies and hoping a fairy will come by to do my dishes.
I finally had my first OB appointment this month; I was so nervous on meeting my new Doctor since I haven’t had the best track record with them in the past, but I was pleasantly surprised! She’s down to earth and offered me a lot of mental health support pamphlets once I told her about my G.A.D. – she was just as concerned as I was about delivery and post-partum which made me feel relieved that it’s just not in my mind. I honestly feel as if I’m in good hands, even though my mind will be racing for the next three months regardless.
I’ll try to give another update before little Spawn arrives but who knows when this one will want to make a grand entrance – expected due date is August 14th!
Ever since I’ve been a kid, I’ve always tried to solve my medical issues holistically. Even though I grew up in a household where medication wasn’t taboo, we still relied on natural remedies to take care of colds and other ailments that could easily be treated without drugs.
When I started to discuss strategies to cope with my anxiety with my doctor, he first brought up pills, and I was so hesitant. I reluctantly agreed, hoping that I could get some fast relief from my symptoms. Although I do have to admit, a nagging in the back of mind kept surfacing saying “you don’t need medication” which seemed to echo throughout society.
I remember how sluggish I felt for the first two weeks trying to adapt to my new body. I did not feel myself and couldn’t grasp the necessary information that was being thrown at me. I got frustrated that the pills weren’t helping me immediately and went back to my doctor a month later telling him this was not the right plan for me. I was then given some Ativan for the time being and was told to take it when needed. Not having a daily pill to pop made me feel a little better and I started to slowly to feel like myself again as the other medication left my body.
Since Ativan was only a go-between, I started to research other remedies and came across several articles outlining the gains of CBD. This avenue seemed to be more realistic for me but there was still some stigma on medical marijuana in Canada, so it took me a while to bring this up with my Doctor. Luckily, my Doctor was very understanding and agreed with CBD usage for my anxiety – He wrote me a recommendation, and within the week I was in another Doctor’s office going over Paranoia and Anxiety. I was worried that I wouldn’t be eligible to get that prescription, but those worries were short-lived as I walked away with a monthly dosage and membership to a local medical shop.
My new medication stopped a lot of things for me that I didn’t want. The busy maze that was my mind seemed to dissipate, my anger and frustrations mellowed out, and the thought that I was worthless seemed non-existent. I couldn’t believe that a little plant that had such a stigma around it was HELPING me. My immediate impressions of shame and weakness slowly were thrown out the window, and I felt as if I was my true self once again. It was a great feeling, and those who would try to put me down for going this route didn’t last too long in my life.
I am a firm believer in CBD, but that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone – just like a pill. If you tell me that you would never take medication or medical marijuana, then I’m happy that you feel that way. If you tell me that snake oil had worked wonders for you, then kudos!
What you do need to realize is that my brain does not function the same way as yours and I do need medication, so kindly be okay with just knowing that and don’t tell me that you’re offended with my choices.
For more information on CBD, Anxiety and Paranoia check out Sunday Scaries
I’ve been toying with the idea to start up an advice column for those that would like to reach out anonymously. I understand that there is still a huge stigma around mental health, and there are some people who are uncomfortable to reach out directly for any advice.
I would love to start this monthly, but I would love to hear from YOU!
If you’re at all interested, please don’t hesitate to contact me via my website
If I’ve ever apologized to you over a message, text, or email, you should know that it most likely took me longer than most people to write out exactly what’s been going on through my head. I tend to write, delete and re-word everything so I don’t sound as ridiculous as my thoughts.
The funny thing is, even though I KNOW these things are ridiculous, they still consume me. Thoughts keep me up constantly, and I tend to over-think even the simplest things. My husband laughs this off, and I wish I could, too. Trying to make logical sense out of my anxiety is time-consuming
I’ve had some friends who get angry at me for apologizing, especially if it’s something that didn’t cross their mind or just for the pure frequency of my self-doubt. There are times when I can control it, but on my bad days, you can find me apologizing for talking too much, for not talking enough, for being reclusive or apologizing for apologizing – my signature.
What people don’t know is that the reason my apologies come out so frequently is that I feel guilty for being myself. I grew up in a toxic environment that made me think I would never be good enough and that no one would ever care for me, so I tend to believe it. Even though I’ve gone through therapy and know that this isn’t true, there is always that little sliver of guilt that likes to bombard itself to the front when my anxiety flares up. I can drown in self-critical thought, what if scenarios and genuinely believe that everyone will take me the wrong way.
Internal battles are so hard to overcome, especially when you desperately want to control it. I hate that these thoughts are intrusive, keep me up at night and continually makes me worry. I despise worrying what people think of me when I’m honestly trying my best not to care. Years of therapy have brought me a long way, but, I don’t believe that my apologizing will ever truly go away.
I’ll be sorry for the things that happen and for things that don’t.
I’ll be sorry for not being there for you when I’m struggling with my problems
I’ll be sorry for constantly apologizing, thinking that I’m annoying you to the point where you do not want to be my friend anymore.
I’m trying my best to not struggle with this, but please know that these apologies come from a place of love. A weird anxious love that I’m still trying to understand