// PCOS: A Day In The Life

Beep beep beep.

It’s 8 a.m. My alarm is screaming in my ear from my phone that lay restlessly on the nightstand beside me. I’m tired. I decide to hit the snooze button. Just five more minutes ..

Four presses of the snooze button later, I decide that I need to get up. After all, my business needs me. I endlessly work to pry my own eyes open, while a full email inbox impatiently waits for me to check it out. Finally, my eyes are open. Still, I’m tired. Exhausted, actually. The fatigue is overwhelming. My mind is awake at this point, but my body is fighting for a chance to put off tackling the day. I sit up and swivel my body, and as my feet meet the carpet beside my bed, pain overtakes me. My back is sore and my feet sting. But I power through.

After scanning through emails, texting clients back and checking in with my business partner, I get ready for work. It’s an office day for me, thank goodness, because I can’t handle another day in the field. But, unfortunately for me, this means that I need to make myself look like a human. Firstly, I hop in the shower. I wash my body and my hair with endless soaps, exfoliators and conditioners, because my skin and hair are dry and dull. Aren’t women supposed to have shiny, glowing skin and hair? I always thought that it would happen naturally, but I was mistaken. I need to work for it. I then take my razor and shave my chin. I got teased for a few loose strands that I never knew were there five years ago, and since that day, I’ve had to shave my chin every single day. I feel angry as I glide the blades across my skin. This unwarranted hair growth pisses me off. Why the hell do I have to do this? Isn’t this something that only men need to do? Why don’t other women need to worry about this? Either way, I carry on.

Aaahh. Nice and clean. Now it’s time to get dressed. I try approximately six different outfit combinations before I find one that looks decent. As I stare into my mirror in total disgust, I think to myself, “I really need to lose some weight.” I find myself growing in envy as I think about all the people out there who can eat whatever the fuck they want and not gain a pound. I love food. I love carbs and I don’t want to break up with them, but one noodle down and it’s going right to my thighs in the form of 10 pounds. Weight gain: the worst thing ever. Should I do paleo? Maybe keto? I don’t know. Even just the thought overwhelms me.

I guess I should put on my face now. I start with some moisturizers because, again, my skin is dull. I notice a few blemishes as I gently touch my face. Acne cream only helps so much, but I do what I can. My under-eyes make me look like Voldemort with a friggin’ nose. I guess this is some kind of wacky combination of genetics and my lack of sleep. Regardless, I need to cover it all up. Foundation, two shades of concealer and pressed powder do the trick. Thank goodness for makeup. It seriously makes me feel whole. When I finally finish, I realize that I’m starving, but my appetite is gone. Maybe it’s because of the 57 outfits I tried on earlier that made me feel so damn lackluster. Whatever. I put on my shoes, grab my coffee and head out the door.

I’m at work now. Things are fine. On my lunch break, I scroll through Facebook. Ugh. Another two pregnancy announcements. I want to feel happy for these people, but it’s difficult. Not that I even want a baby right this second, but my biological clock is ticking. I don’t tell anyone how I feel, because all I get in response is, “You’re still young! You’ll have a baby when the time is right!” Get the fuck out of here with that crap. I don’t know if they’re trying to make me feel better, but all I hear is people trying to belittle me. I’m 28. I’m not a damn child. They really shouldn’t tell me whether or not I’ll have a baby. My ovaries are not like theirs. Sure, maybe it’ll just happen, and I’ll have some cute babies. Or maybe I’ll need to get drugged up on a crap-ton of medications, get a few IUI’s and a round of invetro to have a baby … and God only knows if even all of that will work. The mere thought of infertility horrifies me. I sigh to myself and keep scrolling.

Work goes well and I’m ready to head back home. Dinner consists of some steamed broccoli and chicken. My boyfriend eats this crap every day. I honestly have no idea how he does it. I just want some damn carbs, but I feel bloated for absolutely no reason, so a paleo dinner will have to do.

I enjoy some relaxation for the rest of the night. My fatigue still overwhelms me, but I’m pretty used to it by now. When it’s time for bed, I douse my linens in lavender. I also massage my body with a lavender lotion and put a few drops of lavender essential oil into the diffuser. The reason? Because I can never sleep. My anxiety tends to show its ugly face at night, so I need to thoroughly prepare for the insomnia that awaits me. When I finally lay down, I toss and turn for a while. My body feels sore and I’m not sure why. My thoughts are traveling a million miles a minute. I don’t give up, though, for once I finally fall asleep, my body will prepare for yet another day.

PCOS affects one in ten women! Many go untreated and, in some cases, don't even know they have it. Urge legislators to make PCOS a priority by clicking here. Make a difference by joining in on the PCOS challenge and stay educated by visiting the Hormone Health Network website. For more information and links, please click here.


with love,

holly ✨