We were laying in bed, I wasn’t happy. I was angry, upset, and confused, mostly because I didn’t know why I felt that way.
The weekend had been full of outbursts, ones that I thought I had long left in the past, or at least left behind with the departure of my last relationship.
Trips to the stores brought up mixed emotions. I was sad that things weren’t like they had been, but also happy that they weren’t. Certain elements of the past lingered in my mind and other things I just couldn’t explain; like how irrationally mad I got at the self-service checkout at the grocery store. How I was ready to punch the machine. How the tears had welled up in my eyes and it felt like the worst thing that had happened.
Leading up to all of this, I had had my share of emotional breakdowns. In the past, though, it always felt like I could tie them back to something else that had happened, that I could make sense of the problem and come to terms. This weekend was different, it was three full days of unexplained breakdowns, three full days of out bursts, three full days of stopping in public places and being asked if I was okay.
I had started losing interest in roller derby, something that had dominated my life for the years prior. I left our last game of the season in tears, with a strong sense that I had let down my teammates. I was feeling like the friendships I thought I had might not have been. I was going to practice to make everyone else happy, not myself.
That night, laying in bed, I told Kevin I didn’t want to go to practice. With no reason why and the series of emotional breakdowns and outburst over the weekend, he asked me to call the doctor in the morning and told me he thought something was wrong.
A few months prior I had also started a new birth control, NEXPLANON, one of those fancy implants that goes in your arm and stops babies from there, aka my tracker. Knowing birth control does crazy things to your hormones and this was more than just “the pill,” we went into the next steps hoping these were just side effects of the medication and not something greater. You know, like depression.