$2,000 Later, My Brain Is Fine, but Apparently, I Need To See a Therapist

I thought I was losing my mind.

This year has been…hard. Really hard.

My children are in that season of life where they are super busy teens who can’t drive yet. I thought last year was hard, but I hadn’t seen anything until this school year hit. My car has become my second home, and we don’t have a single evening free.

They’re only involved in club soccer. We don’t do music lessons or anything else. Soccer and church are our lives. I can’t imagine adding anything to our schedule. I wouldn’t be able to manage.

My husband was promoted to general manager of his company, which has meant going back to the office, more travel, and a roller coaster of stressful situations.

Both sets of our parents are starting to age. My dad most likely has Parkinson’s, although there’s no official way to diagnose that, which alone is stressful.

We moved my in-laws to a duplex in a senior living community this year and sold their house, belongings, etc. Their physical issues are too numerous to mention.

On top of all that, I’m now 43 years old and feel like my body has become an evil foe I’m not familiar with.

Life is hard.

. . .

Throughout the first part of the year, random, unique physical symptoms kept popping up. Sometimes they would disappear. Sometimes they’d come and go. None of them made sense together.

Let’s take an inventory:

• Major forgetfulness (I’m typically not a forgetful person.)

• Misusing words, rearranging words in a sentence, or saying something I was completely unaware I said.

• Seeing what seemed to be something moving along the floor (like a mouse scurrying) or in different parts of my peripheral vision. I’d look to see what was there. Nothing was there.

• One month, I had an itchy breast. Just one of my girls itched so badly I googled to see if it was a symptom of breast cancer. Then it went away.

• Nerve twinges around my mouth and chin. It felt like I had a loose hair on my face…you know that subtle tickle. The spot would move around and come and go.

• I had trouble swallowing sometimes, and a couple of times choked on my own saliva, as if I’d forgotten how to swallow.

• Random, sharp twinges in my ovary area. The kind of pain that makes you suck in your breath and is gone the next second.

• Sharp pains on my right side.

Those are the ones I can remember.

It all became so worrisome I made an appointment with my general physician.

After explaining my symptoms and mentioning I thought I had a brain tumor, only partially joking, she asked if I had ever been diagnosed with ADHD or depression.

I said no and we moved on. That seemed strange, but she didn’t follow up or explain the questions.

She had no specific ideas but ordered an MRI for my brain and an appointment at the memory center, which I later canceled.

. . .

In the meantime, I scheduled an appointment with a dermatologist for the first time ever (all my friends were suddenly telling stories of skin cancer) and with a gynecologist for my yearly checkup. I figured it was wise to make sure all systems were a go on this rogue rocketship that seemed to be flying on its own.

While at the gynecologist, I explained the pains in my ovary. He did an extra thorough exam and found nothing. When I told him I’d been taking progesterone for a while to help with really low moods, he suggested I go off that and take Prozac or something similar to deal directly with the moods.

Interesting.

Then I had my MRI appointment. When I checked in, they explained the procedure would cost over $4,000 and my insurance would cover about half.

I panicked.

Did I really need this procedure? What would my husband, the Family Budgeter, think?

My mom came with me, and we walked back through my symptoms to determine if this was necessary.

I called my husband. He sounded frustrated but also supportive if I felt this was necessary. The main reason I wanted an MRI was peace of mind. (No pun intended.)

I decided to go through with it.

Results: I have a beautiful, super-healthy brain and $2,000 has been removed from my bank account.

. . .

Next, I went to the dermatologist. We discussed all sorts of things, but my skin was free of anything suspicious.

However, she asked if I’m a picker, and when I embarrassingly confessed that it’s a nervous tic of mine, she suggested I take Prozac to deal with anxiety.

I didn’t know I had anxiety.

Three doctors in less than a month suggested there was more to my physical symptoms than I was recognizing or aware of.

I quickly set up a get-together with a close friend who is a psychologist and knows boatloads about depression, hormones, natural remedies, and all things neurological. During an hour-long hike, she explained the joys of menopause, and how it starts affecting us way before we actually get to it, tearing our hormones apart and causing super low moments during our cycles.

She also explained the difference between Prozac, other anti-depressants, and more natural therapies like progesterone.

After my discussion with her, I decided to skip all the pills and look into taking better care of my diet and exercise.

. . .

So I set up an appointment with a nutritionist, another thing I’d never done.

At this appointment, a cute, tiny, ripped girl (she wasn’t a girl but that’s how it seemed) asked me a slew of questions. I shared with her all the physical symptoms I’d been experiencing.

Near the end of our time together, she said something I wasn’t expecting to hear: “Are you in therapy?”

She went on to explain how stress can affect every cell of our body and present in many, many ways. She told me about BetterHealth.com and highly recommended I see someone to get my stress under control.

Her follow-up email, in which I was expecting a meal plan or the like, consisted of the link to BetterHealth.com.

Point taken.

Get your stress under control and everything else will march back into line.

. . .

I connected with a therapist who is helping me cope with daily life. Perhaps a topic for another day.

Daily life keeps being daily and ‘lifey.’ It’s not going to get easier any time soon. Having an advocate through therapy, simply knowing someone is there to help me carry the burden mentally and emotionally has reduced my stress and overwhelm.

I’m also finding ways to get out in nature more, and I’m very seriously considering letting my husband know he needs to add massages to our weekly budget for the sake of my mental health.

Life is hard in these middle years. And hard life can cause all kinds of issues: physical, emotional, and mental.

Finding the right kind of help can be tricky when the symptoms can mean a million different things. But it’s worth it to figure it out.

I’m worth it. You’re worth it.

I don’t want to suffer through this part of my life. And so I’m going to find ways to thrive.

XO, Sarah