The holidays are approaching quickly, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the approaching end of the semester. Pretty soon I’ll be able to send my textbooks back to the bookstore, and I can binge watch all the Netflix I want guilt-free for the first time since August. However, with the end of the semester comes finals, and with finals, of course, there is stress. I used to believe that I was capable of handling stressful situations genuinely, and for the most part, I can adapt to the circumstances I'm thrown into fairly well; I have to, I work in retail pharmacy. However, my body disagrees with me. My body tells me that I do not adapt well to stress and that it’s only hurting me more.

Unfortunately, my body is right.

I have been fighting a never ending battle with my polycystic ovarian syndrome since I was nine years old. Nine. At this age, most kids are still playing with dolls; I even remember what kind of Bratz dolls I owned, yet I didn’t have much time to play. It was constant doctors visits, watching the calendar for when my period would come so I could mentally prepare for the pain to worsen, and a lot of time spent laying in bed rather than going outside to play with my friends. I hate admitting it, but PCOS controlled my whole childhood, and I didn’t even know what it was yet. Aside from losing playtime, I just felt completely alone. My friend’s hadn’t gotten their periods yet, and my mom told me I shouldn’t talk about being on birth control with anyone. I’m glad she gave me that piece of advice because I was most likely the only girl in my grade on it at the time. I was nine; I didn’t receive any form of sexual education until I was around eleven. I was scared, alone, and in pain all the time. What kid wants to live like that?

As years went on, the pain got worse, and the effects of the hormone disorder ultimately took over. When I was in seventh grade, I used to shave my face every morning because my facial hair was growing so rapidly and noticeably. I started trimming my arm hairs because they began to get thicker and some girl called me a gorilla in the hallway. Middle school was a horrible time for me and having PCOS did not help in the least bit. Middle schoolers are known for having terrible mood swings, but I believe that mine had to take the cake. There were and still are days where I am so emotionally fragile that I can’t even make eye contact with people without bursting out sobbing for no reason at all; this is when I started to learn the effects stress had on me.

I am an emotional human being. There are no other words I can use here. It’s hard to say whether or not this would be the case if I were dealt a different hand and did not have PCOS, but I do, and this is who I am. I cry quite a bit. I cry over TV shows, movies, homework, classes, people, and I even cry for the sake of doing it. It’s just uncontrollable for me, so if I start crying in front of you, I apologize because these things just happen. I can’t explain it other than going through the whole process of what PCOS is and what it does to your hormones.

I think that my biggest grievance with having to live like this is that I don’t know what life is like when you’re not in pain. I don’t remember how it feels not to be depressed, stressed, or anxiety filled. I don’t remember the last time that I got to live carefreely. So many people, medical professionals, family, and friends have told me I shouldn’t let PCOS define me, but how could I not? I don’t get to live like everyone else; I have to be more mindful of my cycles, be more meticulous with my birth control, and live in a constant state of worry that I am going to have an outburst. How am I supposed not to let something define me if I have the constant reminder of pain?

With the holiday season in full swing ahead of me, I am very excited for the break that I will be getting from school, however not excited for the stress I am about to face. The holidays mean that it is time to be around family and loved ones, which is incredible. I have an amazing family, as well as extended family, but I am worried. I have a meltdown every Christmas without fail, and it is no one’s fault, over the constant questions I get asked.

“How is school going?” “Oh, you’re going to be a therapist?” “Are you still with your boyfriend?” “When are you two going to settle down?” “Where’s the ring?” “When do you plan on having kids?” “Can you have kids with your… you know…?”

I can’t handle it. I try and try every year, but I just cannot handle being asked questions. I love these people and would do absolutely anything for them. I know that it isn’t their intention to hurt me, but the holidays are a stressful time with being around so many people all at once. Emotionally, I can’t handle being asked more than two questions in an hour; PCOS won’t allow it. Friends and loved ones, I apologize that I have to be like this.

I am working on it, I promise.