I hit a wall last week. Figuratively, I was pushing ahead, slogging through an overwhelming schedule, head down and leaning into the wind, when I ran head first into a wall and crashed. I needed rest, but life keeps moving forward so I had to get up and keep moving forward, too, dragging myself through the quicksand of my day. Sometimes it’s so hard to make yourself keep putting one foot in front of the other, because you are just. so. weary. Today I was talking with a friend about how I felt when I said, “I feel gray today. I
“2016 was a hard year.” I saw that a lot at the beginning of this month, and I concur. It WAS hard. In many ways. I started the year off with depression that I fought and battled until mid-Summer. I added too much to my plate, and I added more and I added more, trying to do everything that I wanted to do and everything that needed to be done and everything that others wanted me to do for/with them. I was the frog in the pot, with the rising heat and pressure, not identifying the obvious problem staring me in
Life with PMDD is a roller coaster. A never ending, cruel, evil roller coaster. It’s been a while, so if you didn’t catch Part 1 (where I give a little history) and Part 2 (about diagnosing and treating my PMDD,) you might want to start there. When I last left off, our treatment plan of taking birth control pills every single day was working. Unfortunately, that didn’t last. It wasn’t an easy journey that finally led me to treating pmdd naturally. Around Memorial Day of last year I had a very busy week and I missed a few pills in
Yes, that third pregnancy sent “normal” completely out the window. I used to watch those commercials that would come on for “that new diagnosis called PMDD,” and outwardly I’d scoff, “here we go with another label to throw prescription drugs at,” and inwardly I’d say, “THAT SOUNDS JUST LIKE ME.” I thought it was in my head and I denied it. If you read Part One, you know that I went from a person who had experienced fairly normal PMS symptoms up to that point, to someone who felt rather unstable most of the time. Did I have postpartum depression?
After the birth of my third child, my son, everything changed. Growing up, I didn’t suffer much from PMS, not really. I was sensitive and weepy, yes, like most teen girls. But I never had anyone look at me like I had two heads and or like they needed to fear for their safety–no, that came later. My biggest teenage PMS challenge was the irregularity, and the cramps. Never knowing when they would hit, but knowing with certainty that about every six weeks I was going to end up incapacitated, nauseous, vomiting, taking codeine to help the the pain pass,