Wednesday, June 12, 2013

P(ost)MS, it's a real thing too.

It's that time of the month. It's that time when I feel like jumping off a cliff. Like drowning in the bath. Like walking and not stopping and until my knee bones hit the pavement.

For decades there's been articles and talk about pre-menstrual syndrome. I don't have that. To be honest, those days before my period are the best. I suddenly wake up, become organised, energised. I'm the happiest and most alive that week before my period. No I get post-menstrual depression. About 6 days after I finish the clouds descend. I can't think straight, I can't remember what I was doing. I get headaches and nausea. Then the worst days hit and I'm consumed in a fog of misery. An all-out pit of depression worse than I've ever felt. I know it only lasts a couple days. I've documented my moods on my phone diary for a couple years now - well ever since I got an iphone. I noticed the trend. Sometime after menstruation but before ovulation I want to run away and hide from the entire world.

Exercise doesn't work. It'd fine for health and everything else but not this hormonal rift. I'm like a goldfish, what was I saying? Dreadful. Hopeless. Cannot contemplate work or dare be accountable for anything. I worry about driving.

A spoon falls on the floor and it's as if the world conspires against me.

I know it's ridiculous! I know having those feelings or thoughts is silly. There is an over reaction to some things I do have to talk myself down from. Doesn't mean I don't feel the full force of those emotions, regardless.

I spend half the month dealing with and the aftermath of this event, and the other getting ready for it. Doctors aren't helpful, there's nothing really that can be done apart from using a low dose oestrogen therapy which isn't recommended because of the high risk of breast cancer my family history poses.

It's at its worst today. Cannot speak, cannot feel close to my family, cannot wait for the minutes to tick away until I can go to sleep. Can't cook. Can't clean. Can't shower. Can't move. But I do if I have to, I mean I did drop off and pick my daughter up from school. I smile, I talk. I put on a mask and walk among them. I did my volunteer time with the class literacy group. I feel on the edge of crying, screaming, vomiting but do none of these.

It's only a couple of days.

Eating my weight in tryptophan.