11 Days

Updated my profile here and thought I’d do some writing now. Might do a username change when we get moved, and a new book too, of course.

I remembered why I had “July” in my journal notes yesterday. It’s because I totally doubt I’ll make it to July without getting anxious again. I haven’t made it more than a month in a while now. I’ll know just how helpful (or not) the supplements I’ve been taking are depending on what happens over the next few weeks. I’m still doing the combination of black cohosh tea and tablets along with magnesium a couple of times a day.

We’ve booked our hotel, we’ve got our first-class tickets, and we’re about 90% packed. Oh, the happy tears that flow on and off! But the stress is ramping up along with the sadness of not having my bestie to share these moments with. We loved each other like sisters and it just sucks that she’s not here. He believes she somehow goes on and knows what’s going on but I don’t know what to believe. It’s one thing to believe Paris exists even though I haven’t seen it firsthand, but another to believe things that no one has seen or that may very well be just stories or the false beliefs of those that swear on them.

Here’s something pretty freaky, though. I’m listening to a book right now that deals with a woman who is dying of cancer. Well, her name is the same as hers and she’s 40 years old.

So like I said, lots of stress right now. I’m excited, I’m missing my bestie, but definitely stressing too. The normal kind of stress I’ve always had when something big is going on. Not the hellish anxiety I’ve experienced at the hands of my medication in menopause. They’re distinctly different feelings.

So much could go wrong right now. If there are any issues with D’s house closing escrow, that could really throw things off big time for us and end up costing us thousands of dollars. If all continues to go as planned, then we now have 11 days to go!

The fireproof safe he got actually looks like a mini suitcase that feels like rubber. A metal box would be too heavy to ship, so this will be better.

Woke up a little earlier than usual. Without circadian rhythm disorder, one’s day is typically 24 hours. Mine averages 25 hours and 15 minutes. But I’ve been waking up to pee like crazy lately and if this happens within an hour of when I was going to get up anyway, I can’t always get back to sleep. So my day ended up being 24 hours and 45 minutes. I started off a little tired today but managed to perk up. I still sleep better overall and have less fatigue and lightheadedness than I did when I was in the perimenopause phase, so that’s good.

Wish we were going back in time rather than ahead. It’s gonna be a big jump in one day for one with a rolling schedule whereas if we were going back in time, I’d be on days longer. It’s funny cuz in a sense, he’s jumping into the future. I’m just going back to where I started. LOL

Another sign that I’m sleeping better in general is that I’m not remembering my dreams as much. The only dream I remember was seeing a new doctor but it was an older male instead of a younger woman. I would prefer a woman that’s not fresh out of medical school but experienced enough. I want her to have a good five years or so of experience but I’d like her to be a lot younger than me so that as long as neither of us moves, I can hope to have the same doctor for the rest of my life.

But the doctor in the dream was a guy in his late 40s and I told him I hoped he wasn’t behind because I had a lot of history to catch him up on. He kind of smiled at that and led me into the exam room where he had a small dog. I complimented the dog’s shiny collar and began to tell him of my shitty experiences with menopause and how my medication can fuel my anxiety.

“Are you a mommy?” he asked me.

I shook my head and said, “DES, you know?”