Let me start by saying, PCOS, or polycystic ovarian syndrome, sucks.
When the gynecologist called me up two months ago and said, "You have polycystic ovarian syndrome," I initially felt relieved. Years of painful, irregular periods, excess facial hair, weight gain, oily, acne-ridden skin, and seemingly perfect health made me feel as though the only sick thing about me was my mind. So many doctors ignored my complaints of painful periods and just tried shoving birth control, which also sucks, down my throat. I stayed quiet about the amount of pain I was in for years because the doctors' ignorance made me feel crazy. Finding out that I am, in fact, plagued by a common and incurable condition was so freeing... for all of five seconds.
I am still heavy, oily, hairy, in pain...oh, and potentially infertile. And that is reason No. 345 why PCOS sucks.
So far, my doctors have recommended birth control, which as I said before, sucks. They have also scheduled a surgery that "should" help lessen some of my other symptoms...so long as they don't mess up. Apparently there are hormones I can take to stop excessive hair growth and maybe help my skin? I am so curious to discover what other symptoms might arise from taking medication(s) to fix me (not)! The doctors have also mentioned starting a weight loss regimen... only, I am pretty sure some of my weight gain is directly related to my PCOS and is, therefore, something somewhat out of my control?
I literally do not know how to start managing my PCOS. And that is reason No. 777 why PCOS sucks.
I am sure there are several women, like myself, who are struggling to cope with PCOS. I am equally sure that everyone, no matter their gender, sexuality, etc is struggling with an issue that's "incurable" and annoying. I have chosen, within this very personal article, to deal with my PCOS by allowing myself the space to reflect and acknowledge that PCOS does, in fact, suck. I encourage everyone who takes the time to read this article to do the same — even if your reflection isn't PCOS related.
Life has dealt us all some pretty ghetto cards. And unfortunately, the cards we get dealt are all ours, meaning we have to deal with them.
Two months ago, when the doctor called me up and told me I had PCOS, those four little letters sank deep into my heart and tried very hard to remove a large piece of my joy. Since I am being honest, I'll admit that I am fighting hard not to hang onto the hurt this diagnosis has brought me — but I know I have so much more to be grateful for.
If you, like me, are struggling with PCOS, a chronic illness, or life in general, remember that joy is a choice and it is abundantly available.
Readers, please stay encouraged and don't forget that our struggles produce stronger, better character.
In time, you may find that the pain you experience now had a purpose. And, if you don't discover the purpose behind your pain, know that you are able to understand and support several others who have experienced the same hurts as you.
PCOS may suck, but my life is so much more than a ghetto PCOS diagnosis.
