I’ve never been especially sentimental. I’ve buried friends, parents, a child. I tend to get angry. Irritable. Hard to live with. Never sweet. Rarely loving and sentimental. Not me. I throw away my son’s art, never thinking twice.
But look at me, today. I think the banderol from the Cowden Protocal is getting at some of those nasty bugs in my brain.
I’m not sad, but the little things make me cry, just like they did when I first started the Zith treatment last winter. I watched that movie, “Fred Claus” with the big son and my husband and bawled at several points. All my theater training, all those comedy/tragic masks hanging in my high school bedroom, and I’m not prepared for this.
Mood swings? I don’t think so. One moment I am fine and the next I am WAILING. And then, 20 seconds later, I am back to normal. And there is NO sadness attached once the tears and the wailing happens. Lovely.
In my flawed opinion, these aren’t the dictionary definition of “mood swings”. Okay, so maybe they are, but they are like nothing I’ve ever wanted to experience.
As my amazing mother would say, “Just another thing to get through”. Thanks, Mom. You help me get through the days, no matter where you are.