Wednesday, November 11, 2015


Luteal explosion!  ...Then it's over, and I feel better...

PMDD is bananas.  I feel really, very crazy sometimes.  Really, I know, hard to believe.  Then...  It's like, "Pow," I feel a lot more like myself.  I've been pretty depressed and sad, even when I wasn't luteal, the last few months, but there is a marked difference in the type of depression and sadness I experience when I am in the follicular phase.

On my "good" weeks:

1.  When I feel depressed, I don't want to be dead.  I don't think I will forever feel that way, and I can get up and do things that make me feel less depressed.

2.  My hopelessness and brain nausea isn't all consuming.  I'm sad, yet I accept it, I feel it, and I realize I'll be okay.  I don't fall into complete apathy or craziness.

3.  I don't obsess over things that I can't change.  I don't cry and lose my mind imagining how nothing will ever be the same again, nothing will ever be right, and I have ruined everything.

4.  I'm not impulsive.  I don't write impulsive emails or texts.  I don't take 8 Klonopin and some Unisom so I can just "sleep" and not really care if I wake up.  I don't want to drink copious amounts of alcohol, then cry, lose my mind, and take 8 Klonopin.  I have my wits about me.  If there is one thing I learned from going to the ER for depression, it was that PMDD makes me impulsive in the maddest throes, and I could really hurt myself physically (i.e. taking medications that could kill me), or hurt myself mentally and emotionally by trying to move backwards and writing, writing, writing... Writing to people I shouldn't about things I shouldn't... I would not do any of that when I am feeling like myself.

5.  I realize I'm awesome.  I am.  I am a strong person and I have accomplished amazing things.  And I have survived storms of tragedy and stress that should have pushed me over the edge, especially when at least half of these things were happening when I was Luteal.  I might be impulsive when I'm luteal, but I fight the fuck out of it too.  I fight it, and I want to get better.  I never stop wanting to get better.  I don't give up.

6.  I'm not lazy.  I feel so exhausted and apathetic and completely useless very often when I am luteal.  I feel like I should be able to do a whole lot of stuff, and I just don't... but really, I just can't.  I can't.  I am a crumpled heap of stress and hormonal nuttiness and although I'm fighting it, I'm in an imaginary boxing ring at that time.  I can't lift my arms, you know?  I don't even know where to throw my punches... I mostly want to punch myself.  When it passes, I feel like I can take things head on, and I can smooth out at least most of the creases and stand up and get something done that I know I need to do.

But there's another thing too...  When I'm able to think clearly, and be "myself,"  that's when I reflect a whole lot about my life and where I have been; where I am now; where I am going... And I feel sad and despondent.  I'm freaking sad that I'm not a teacher.  I can't believe I'm not a teacher.  I can't believe I don't have any job at all. I am sad that half of my life I feel crazy.  I am sickened by the idea that I'm not all the mother I want to be.  I'm sad for things I've done and things I've failed to do.  I think about people who have hurt me.  I think about the people I have hurt...  I'm sad I haven't visited my grandmother, or even called her:  And I don't feel like I can... I don't feel good enough to get out of bed, really.  I spend the day in bed.  I had been up, doing things, wrote the first part of this blog, did some work around the little house... and then yesterday evening, around 4:30, I laid down, thinking too much, and wanting to block it out... and I just stared ahead of me, laying on my side, with "Hello" playing on repeat softly until I fell asleep.  Sam rushed in an hour or so later asking me if I "had taken anything," and was worried.

I hadn't taken anything.

I think I am in shock.  I am in shock, and when I have a moment to even think about all the reasons why, I shut down.  It knocks me down.  At least I'm standing in the first place, and trying to do all the things that
need to be done, yet... POW! Something hits me right between the eyes, and I realize how very sad I am. And I'm sad for very good reasons, and not just because my hormones are a shit show.

I have to stay distracted.  I know that.  I have to stay busy and distracted.  That's how humans deal with sadness, yeah?

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