Rewind, etc.

I can't count how many times I have done this over the last two or three years:  I wake up and get out of bed, I take a shower, I get dressed, and I put on makeup, fix my hair so it's presentable.   I have somewhere to be, or somewhere to go... and then I am in slow-motion-rewind...  Moving backwards.

I get undressed.  I put back on sweatpants or pajamas; I rake my fingers through my hair and pull it up into a ponytail; I wash my face--I wash all the makeup back off.  I just put it on, and I wash it off... Then I get back in bed.  I can't go where I need to be, I can't do what I need to do.

I'm trying not to be negative, to think negatively.  It's a nice idea to focus on positive things.  It's hard when people try to have seriously important conversations with me when I know I am emotionally messed up.  It seems like it's always the time they bring up something very upsetting, that they need me to fix immediately; or they decide it's the best time to push me out of the next and let me figure out how to survive on my own, without a friend, leaving me to my own devices... sigh...

It's a nice idea to focus on positive things.  I can't... sometimes.

I'm moving backwards, and I don't have a choice.  No one is taking my hands and keeping me from being sucked into the vortex.  I'm not really reaching to grab the sides either, to pull myself out of it.  I prefer the darkness of sleep because my mind is so dark.  I don't see light and life around me.  Things just suddenly go dark...  and I need to not be awake.

I'm really fighting this PMDD thing.  I am fighting against it physically, mentally, emotionally.  I have read everything I can about it.  I know what I need to do to, and I am trying to do those things.  That's why it is so defeating to end up back in bed.

It's the moment I look up at my face--as I am splashing it with warm water, removing what symbolized that I was getting out of here-- that is most defeating.  I see failure in the mirror.  I'm not sure if it's just the water running down my face, or if I'm also crying.  I don't even feel it, sometimes, when I am crying.  Am I washing away my hope, I wonder.  Am I giving up?  Do I have a choice?  Am I washing away my fight, my strength?  The face looking back at me doesn't answer.

And, when I lay back down, I sometimes think, maybe I'm actually taking care of myself...  Maybe I need to sleep through some of the horrors of this disease, so I don't let it consume me.  Maybe sleep is my fight, saying, "You can't make everything go dark on me, I'll do it myself.  I am in control of this."

I don't know.  I don't know.

I feel like I could talk to someone when I'm moving towards the total eclipse, I might not so so far away from light.  Maybe there is someone out there who can keep me awake... alive...  But, ultimately, I have to accept the truths that are PMDD:  1.  It is very difficult, and I am really trying to not surrender to the big sleep.  2.  I need to know if I can keep myself awake and alive.  3.  I am alone, in this.  No one can understand.

If you saw me in person--if you saw me, and knew me--you would know that I am doing a good job, and these days, (where the rewind is unstoppable), are few.  Often I only reveal the absence of light in my writing--I'm spilling my inner being, that I cannot show on the outside.  

Even the people who know me the best, and are closest to me, believe I'm okay during these 10 days-- I often have "Great Job", "A+", "Way to Go!" stickers on my "Act Happy and Positive" assignments--they don't remember that I am using everything I have, everything I've got in me, to be okay.  I mean, I was the kind of student who was not satisfied with a B on an essay or exam.  I wanted full success, not above average success.

Does that mean I'm actually acing this whole time?  I don't know.

I don't feel like I am, many days, but I do know that I'm certainly trying most of the time... now.  

I'm too tired to care, I think. I'm just tired. I need to go to sleep.