You know how sometimes it feels like the universe has it out for you? Well that’s kind of how the past few weeks have been for me. I’m sure losing my doggie had a lot to do with it, but I really thought I was coping with that pretty well.

I pride myself on being able to manage quite a bit of stress without completely breaking down. Some of it is because my job outside of raising a little drama queen is to help people with mental illness who are in crisis.

This often involves lengthy discussions about ways to relieve stress, methods of relaxation and how to develop positive coping skills when life continually dumps on you. And when all of this fails, we turn to pharmaceutical intervention {the prescription kind, I promise}.

Typically I’m able to take my own advice.

I don’t know if it’s just a perfect storm that has built up, but it turns out I wasn’t coping as well as I thought. About a week ago I started having a bunch of cardiac symptoms that progressed to the point that I’ve now had an ER workup, a visit with my primary doctor and a referral to a cardiologist.

Seriously, this doesn’t seem like it’s my life.

As a nurse it’s a pretty humbling experience to be on the other side of the healthcare system. Especially when you are a psych nurse and the ER doc is telling you she thinks you’re having chest pain caused by stress.

This is the kind of thing I help my patients with – it isn’t supposed to happen to me.

My cardiologist has ordered some further testing, but he believes it will likely turn out to be just a benign heart murmur or a minor heart valve problem. Neither of these should affect my quality of life in the long term, but would mean that my problems are, likely, a direct result of my stress level.

We all have a limit to the amount of crap we can have piled onto us before we stumble under the weight of the load, and apparently I have exceeded my limit.

I’m not telling you all this as some ploy for sympathy. I’d much rather never share this information with anyone who hasn’t witnessed it firsthand. But I don’t want to selectively share my life so that it makes me sound better or look more in control.

Some days I’m a mess. I’m not always in control and I’m definitely not perfect – much as the perfectionist in me would like to be. {Though I must admit, there is something slightly liberating about announcing that to the world.}

I’m not exactly sure why I take on so much or think that I can actually tackle that massive to-do list alone, but I continually push forward with this mentality. I suspect that much of it stems from being a perfectionist – I want to do everything myself that way I know it’s done “right.”

Clearly this mentality is not one I can maintain for the long term so I’m going to add another category to my list of goals – I want to learn to ask for and accept help when I need it, and realize that done is better than perfect.

I know Molly talked about this in a previous post, but I’m finding it really applies to my life right now. {That girl is so full of sparkly goodness – it’s no wonder we all love her!}

So now I’m waiting with bated breath to hear the cardiologist give me a clean bill of health and the ok to resume my normal activities {and let me have my precious coffee again!}. I’m also trying to continue taking baby steps forward without stressing myself out too much.

Once again I find myself seeking that elusive balance – something that people with an obsessive personality {like me!} don’t find easily!