Last night my wife commented that the bottle of vodka in the freezer was getting low. I bought it about two months ago. The previous one was half empty a year after I bought it and sat on the shelf until the other day when I put it back in the freezer. As you can see, I'm a VERY occasional drinker. Thing is, lately, particularly since I came out to my wife, the dysphoria get's especially bad and sometimes it's so bad I need a drink to ease it, perhaps two or so drinks in the course of a week and never more than one a night. I've been having trouble finding an endo, every lead dries up. My wife hopes the endo will tell me I'm wrong and it's something else, anything else. (What? Schizophrenia? Major Depression? Bi-polar Disorder?)
This morning she was out of sorts and cranky and I wished her a good day as she left for work, her reply was "it won't be a good day until you find an endocrinologist, and probably not then either!"
Sometimes I wish I had just kept my mouth shut and suffered in silence, even though I KNOW that can't work!
Sometimes I wonder if this isn't just something I made up to get away from her, even though I have NO desire to do that.
Sometimes I think death would be preferable, even though suicide is not in me.
Often I wish I was as clueless about this as I was a year ago. Depressed and anxious with no clue why is sometimes better than knowing why if it shatters your entire world.