I hate to only write about PMDD and health, but for now, my health and my husband's health are the rulers of everything. So I suppose it makes sense that when I do blog, it's about that.
So in my world, I've tried something new this past month. As far as I can tell, every woman with PMDD reacts differently to the various kinds of treatment, and it's a science experiment to find what works for each person. (As is the case in most mood disorders I've read about/witnessed/gone through myself.)
{<<Would love to add here that after that sentence I ended up going somewhere, and then forgot I had even started this post....as is life with PMDD.>>}
So this past month I started taking Buspar twice a day. For me, it has been a life saver (except for the horrific 3 days prior to my period). I got more done this month that I have in awhile (if you look at the number of days I was active and not lost and confused in an angry fog of feelings that I have no control over, really). But then the BAD days set in. And if felt like it always does. Life ruining. Dream crushing. Nightmarish. This month I got hit with the worst panic attack I've ever had. I caught myself diminishing the severity of it multiple times, and I'm now trying to own how horrifying it really was in the moment. When I rehash it for people, it doesn't sound as bad as it was. But I tried to shut myself in the pantry while murmuring over and over again about death. At one point someone tried to open the pantry. That was all at the beginning and I didn't even realize yet what was happening. All I could hold onto was the feeling that I needed to get out of there. (The house.) I eventually went to the bathroom where my husband was showering and said I needed his keys. He encouraged me to go to the basement instead, and I thought "yeah. The basement. Better than driving, probably." So I went down stairs. I did calm down momentarily, but eventually the nightmarish thoughts flooded in and I was suffocating again. (It feels like it, at least.) There was a trigger to all of this, but I don't want to go in to it right now. The trigger brought all of my worst fears to the forefront of my mind. Those fears being: Me dying of ____ (just insert any life threatening illness, it doesn't matter which one). My husband dying of complications from his psoriatic arthritis. My mother in law (who supports my family of 5 both financially and emotionally) dying from her health complications. Me being left with no job, no college degree, poor health which will keep me from working a steady job, so therefore no income to support my family. Those fears are things I feel daily. I'm not over exaggerating. Those thoughts blip into my brain daily. So I can fight them off when I'm feeling "normal". But when PMDD rears it vicious and compassionless head, I absolutely break. All I want to do at that moment is run as far away from the fear and the situation as possible. Escape. Escape. Escape. I don't know how long it lasted. It felt like centuries. But overall, with the initial trigger to the moment I lugged my heavy body, wrought with dread and almost immobilized by the trauma of the attack, and fell into my bed, it was around an hour. 24 hours after the attack, my period started. It was a LONG 42 day cycle. (I'm in perimenopause and I guess there is NO predicting when shit will hit the fan.)
Segue to my new plan. I had met with my regular family physician the day after the attack b/c I knew I was very weak (anemia) and had made an appointment already to have my blood checked. We discussed some options. I am going to go back on the pill (so my period can be SCHEDULED, because ain't nobody got time for that. Ever.). And I'll continue my buspar regimen. I do believe and hope that this will lessen the suffering every month. Let's hope that is true.
When asked by any physician why I wasn't already taking the buspar daily, my only truthful reply was, "Naturalists."
Fucking Naturalists.
Please as you venture on your own journey to health and happiness, try to be mindful that some of us have actual, serious issues that can't be so easily solved with rubbing some oil on our feet or eating _____ every day. Some of us NEED pharmaceuticals to function how you do on nothing, even if you're not feeling your greatest. Your bad days could be our best days. You never know. Not that I think eating clean, upping your intake of fruits and veggies and cutting back the processed junk is void of benefit. It is FULL of benefit. But.....that doesn't fix me. And if it fixes you, FANTASTIC! I'm jealous, but happy for you. From the bottom of my very honest heart, I am. But I've been duped folks. I've been duped into thinking all health officials are bad. (LOTS of them are. I actually thanked my doctor yesterday because it took us years to find someone we trusted.) And not all pharmaceuticals are bad. But what IS bad? Not listening to your own body and mind. Because you've listened to all the rhetoric about what one should and/or should not do.
Life is funny. It is not black and white. What works for me will probably not work for you. Vice versa. But what does seem to work for pretty much everyone I've ever met is listening to them. Loving them. And letting them be their true selves, no judgements attached.
I'm still riding out my storm over here. Trying to concentrate and focus through the fog of hormones that keeps telling me bad things. But in a few days, I WILL feel like me again. The happy me who wants to make you happy. The happy me that might poke at you just to get a smile. The happy me who sees EVERY child out there as a mini adult who needs love in order to blossom into a whole adult. The happy me who wants to sing and do yoga. The happy me who doesn't mind helping my kids clean their rooms. The happy me who won't be overwhelmed (as much) with what the house has become this last week. The happy me who will fight for good as soon as my bad fog lifts.
I'm waiting for her.
No comments:
Post a Comment