Rage Against the Machine

Moods are a funny thing. Overall, I’d probably say that I’m a positive and even-keeled person. And I’m a pretty self-aware person as well. So, when I feel down, depressed or angry, I tend to examine and analyze everything I can think of until I hit on a reason for the mood. I’m not a big fan of “free-floating anxiety,” and it kind of pisses me off if I have to accept that as a reason for how I feel. I need to know. Some might say it’s stupid to look for a reason for a bad mood because finding it will just make the mood worse. But, from my perspective, the mood is already bad, and not knowing the reason doesn’t help you move past it. Actually, for me, the uncertainty is what makes the mood worse.

So then I have to go and start taking hormones. For the most part, I tend to feel that I don’t have much in the way of side effects from medication – OK, beyond the all-over body rash I get from Naprosyn and the occasional f***ed up dreams I get from Vicodin. But other than that, I don’t usually have too many issues with meds. So, at first I wanted to believe that I wasn’t having any real reaction to the various fertility meds I’ve been taking. That would be before I tore into my class for not raising their hands during attendance. Oh, and having a total meltdown over an Olympic hockey game.

First, the class. I went in one morning, and I knew I was in a bad mood. I even told the students that I was in a bad mood and they should not do anything to make it worse. I laughed it off, and so did they. Then I started taking attendance and the students just sat there, looking at me, and now acknowledging their names. I pretty much exploded, saying it was fine if they wanted to sit there like lumps and get marked absent. I didn’t care if they couldn’t put forth the effort to raise their hands. It wasn’t me who was going to fail. Yeah, so I overreacted a bit. At that point they really just sat and stared at me – it was clearly out of character for me, and they didn’t quite know how to react. I took a deep breath and just finished the attendance, although I did mutter, “It’s not like I didn’t warn you.”

I didn’t put that down to the hormones though. Probably because I didn’t want to. I don’t know what it is, but I guess I looked at it as a sign of weakness to admit that the meds could control my moods so strongly. I always have prided myself on my self-control, and didn’t like to admit that my control had slipped. I knew that I had gotten a little emotional in the past with the meds (like crying at TV commercials), but I had never experienced such anger.

The worst of it probably continued for about four days – alternating anger and depression. On one of those days, I had recorded the Women’s Gold Medal Final hockey game from Sochi. I had stuff to do that day, so I waited to watch it – I chose to watch the figure skating first, and then the hockey game later. I had been looking forward to this game between USA and Canada for the entire Olympics. But before I could watch it, I got a call from Dr. K’s office, and I had to go get some paperwork. I made it all the way home without finding out the score (even through a conversation about the Olympics on the bus). While I was waiting for the elevator in my building, though, I heard one of my building porters talking about the game and Team USA’s heartbreaking loss.

Completely illogically, my world fell apart. I got on the elevator and went upstairs, fighting tears. Walking from the elevator to my apartment, I punched the wall. I barely made it into my apartment before I started sobbing hysterically, cursing the fates, and throwing things. Seriously, I started throwing things over a hockey game. This lasted for a good twenty minutes or so. When I finally calmed down a bit, I took a long, hard look at what had just happened. I knew my reaction was astronomically out of proportion to the situation. And it was completely and utterly unlike me.

I finally had to acknowledge that it was a result of the hormones. And I surprised myself by not being disgusted with myself for being weak. I actually felt free. I had acted like a complete lunatic, but it wasn’t my fault! It was the hormones! What a relief! Although, God help me if this is a preview of what I’ll experience once I do get pregnant. Sheesh!

And lord knows what my students think of me at this point!