This afternoon, I received a phone call from the doctor who treated me in the ER last Sunday night to talk about some blood work that had come back. I knew why she was calling even before she dialed my number. I figured it out last night.

About 10 days before my next menstruation cycle, I can find myself awash in an emotional storm. Sometimes, it is merely a category 3, other times it is a tsunami.

I wish I could blame the MS, but I am sure that a neurological disease has little to do with hormones. My balance is fine otherwise, but not then. Never then. At least not for the past few years. Sometimes I wonder if menopause might actually be a relief for me.

I have tried different medications, but the problem is not a constant one, not even every month. I do have a short-term prescription that provides a little "distance" that I can take, but I have to remember to take it. Unfortunately, remembering is frankly not possible while battling the tidal waves of emotion. It is all I can do to keep breathing.

I have alarms in my cell phone for practically everything these days, but I cannot figure out a way to make it ask me if I need a chill pill. Not when my cycle refuses to follow a set schedule. Over the years, I have asked, well...actually begged, my friends to ask me if it could be that time of the month were they to see me in an emotional storm. However, they are not good at remembering either. Perhaps I should get signs made to hang up around my home?

When I realize what is happening, the utter relief at knowing I am not crazy is nearly tangible. Then comes the resolve to somehow recognize it the next time.

I figured out last night what the week before was all about, which gave me pause. While the depth of my anguish was fueled by sky-high hormones, the underlying hurt remained the same. I had wanted a safe haven and to be understood, accepted even if what I wanted didn't make sense to my friend. I thought that was not too much to ask. Apparently it was.

At one point, her husband asked me why I didn't want to meet their friends. It was all I could do not to burst into tears at that moment. I wanted to retort what in the world made them think I would want to? I am tired all the time, and was even more so with all the work I've been doing. I hurt all the time. All the time. I struggle with my vision. I struggle with cognitive processes. I struggle with word. I thought they could see me. I guess I was wrong.

I keep thinking back to my parents visit last August. I hobbled in agony for over an hour trying to keep up with my mother at the National Aquarium. Her only response was obvious impatience that she had to keep waiting for me. I hid in the shade on a stone bench at the National Arboretum while both my parents walked around. Neither of them gave a thought about the heat and its affect on me.

What do I want more than anything in this life? A place to belong. A place where I am known and understood and accepted as is. I want the bar in "Cheers." I want the friends in "My Boys" on TNT and Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time books.

What was difficult to also face is the reality that I tried to buy that place, especially in recent months, practically beggaring the rest of 2009 in the process. I guess I thought if I were the friend of great gifts, who shared much, then I would be the friend who was welcome no matter what. I was wrong about that.

I saw T's face when I had an asthma attack in her presence for the first time. She was frightened and worried. Bettina just goes on with whatever she is doing. To be honest, both reactions are hard to take. I want support, but I don't want to hurt someone in the process. I know traveling with my pets is work. I know the constant asthma attacks are a drain. I know my preference for hanging out at home is not the most engaging time. I know this. I just wish that I had someone for whom it was completely and absolutely okay.

Because I had to work some last week, my boss suggested I take today off as well. I accepted with alacrity. That makes for a short week. Surely, I have slept enough in the past eight days to make up for the trying times of the past month!

Do you know what the greatest gift God has given us beyond the sacrifice of His Son? Sunrise. Each day is a new beginning. A fresh start. Hope for a different future.