A Day in the Life of a Crazy Person

So usually, during a normal month for me- and this is different for everybody- the PMDD symptoms start at the end of the week before my period, say Thursday or after so that I only have 4 days of crazy making.

This month, the crazy making started the Friday the week before it normally does so that instead a Hell Week I've got a Hell 10 Days to look forward to. Oh joy.

Add to that, I had my annual gyno visit during this Hell 10 Days. Now for a "normal" person, a gyno visit is not a pleasant experience but they deal with the necessary yuck and move on. As you know at this point, I am nowhere close to normal. I am going to state a truth here, because it's okay to tell the true stories, that I have never stated in a public forum before. That truth is this: Because I was sexually molested by a family friend as a child, gyno visits trigger stress, anxiety, rage, guilt and tears with me.

It spiraled absolutely out of control about 2 years ago when I had to visit the gyno twice in 6 months. I ran to my girls, safety net of wisdom and support, and basically blurted out the whole story which I had never written down anywhere before and which many of them didn't know. They said, "Tell your gyno to give you ONE Xanax."

I was so ignorant I didn't even know you could ask for one pill let alone getting it from your gyno. I thought you had to visit a psych for 6 months before you got a prescription. She gave me ONE Xanax and said, "Bring a driver." I got the pill and it was 1 mg, if I'm remembering correctly. I ran to the girls again, "How is this going to help me?!?! You have to dope me up like a horse for pain meds to work!! I drink most women under the table!! She does know I'm a Big Girl, right???!!" Somebody pointed out that it was 3 times the normal dose which calmed me down. They also said that I would definitely need the driver. Lord, did I ever. I remember laying down in the seat of the car watching the slithering trees go by then I remember going to sleep but everything else is a blur.

Since I knew that I could get courage in the form of a pill, I stopped wigging out. The next two visits brought no anxiety or tears.

Until this one.

When my PMDD is in overdrive, I feel raw on the inside and close to explosion on a normal, non-stressful day. You put any kind of irritation or stress on top of that and you get to see me have a melt down. Lucky you.

Normal Explosion Level ________

Normal Level of Emotions ________

See all that space in between those two lines?? That's why you don't normally see me cry. That buffer space. During PMDD Hell Week, those two lines are like this ======= and the smallest thing sends me over the edge. A gyno visit is far from small for me.

Which is why at 6 am, two hours before my appointment, after a night of tossing and turning and bad dreams and crying, I went to Facebook and said, "HELP ME!! I NEED HELP!!!" and all of my girls once again kept my cheese from sliding off my cracker. Thank the good Gawd above for great girlfriends. I honestly don't know what I would do...wait, yes I do. I know exactly what I would do without them. I'd be gnawing on the strap of my straight jacket in the loony bin.

I had a good cry and got the crazy under control before the visit. I still warned her just in case my devil face came out because I was feeling more snipey than tearful then. Literally a roller coaster inside you. It is not pleasant for anybody that comes in contact with you. Bless your hearts. Seriously, cause y'all have no idea the extent of the turmoil I have stuffed down to remain a functioning, free, non-violent, socially-acceptable human being. You only see the tip of the iceberg. The rest is under the water and is  destructive and massive but I can see it. I can feel it because it's all contained within myself except for the few tears or devil faces you may see slip out. Keeping everything on lockdown adds another layer of stress...you see this vicious circle? It honestly makes me want to curb stomp the people who make fun of PMS or PMDD. Hell, it makes me want to curb stomp anybody for any reason most days. Keep it locked down, Cindy.

I've made it to Tuesday. Only 20 more years of this left. I may be the only woman alive looking forward to menopause.