Showing posts with label foggy thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foggy thinking. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
May is Mental Health Month - A Primer on PMDD
The following guest post was written by the blogger Cheekyminx. With her permission, several of her posts about PMDD are being featured on this blog. To find out more about her work as a PMDD Advocate, please visit her Facebook page, PMDD Life Support.
Many women the world over experience the
usual discomforts associated with the premenstrual cycle. PMS is a well-known
condition that often includes irritability, bloating, and physical pain. But if
you feel like PMS takes you out of commission every month, there may be more to
it for you. Could you be one of the growing numbers of women who realize they
are suffering from Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, or PMDD? What many women,
and indeed many doctors, do not know is that in 2013, PMDD was officially
recognized as a mood disorder (this classification will have to do for now)
experienced by about 10% of all women who menstruate.
Now word is getting out. So how do women
who have PMDD discover they have it? PMDD is caused by a sensitivity to normal
hormone fluctuations rather than a hormonal imbalance, and getting tested for
hormone levels usually reveals nothing. Many women discover it when they are at
their wit’s end, having tried birth control, antidepressants, and other
treatments to target symptoms they often think are the result of something
else…like bipolar disorder or depression. In fact, many women with PMDD report
not only PMS-like symptoms that are extreme and debilitating, but also much more
dramatic and difficult-to-manage changes in mood and thought patterns, often
leading to misdiagnosis. But intuitively, they know there’s something about
their monthly cycle that seems to be playing a role, so they begin to chart
their symptoms.
These symptoms are numerous and vary
from person to person but generally involve anxiety, increasing irritability,
hypersensitivity of the senses, depression, rage and other uncontrollable
emotions. Thoughts can become insistent and feel “uncharacteristic” to the
person having them. It is as though the mind becomes polluted, distorting
everything. PMDD also seems to exacerbate underlying medical conditions, making
it unique to every woman and can include dizziness, sluggishness, bloating,
heavy bleeding, and sore muscles. But by and large, it is the increasing loss
of patience and intensifying irrationality that makes PMDD such a nightmare,
not only for the women, but for the people they love.
In fact, many find that during the 10-15
days of their hormonal sensitivity, they lose interest in their partners…not
just sexually, but often to the extent of detesting them altogether. Some
report regularly breaking up with their partners on a monthly basis. This
Jekyll and Hyde transformation wrecks havoc on relationships of all kinds, not
just romantic ones. It’s difficult for mothers to parent and for employees to
continue with duties as usual. Overwhelmed by fatigue, cravings, paranoia, or
even suicidal thoughts, normal life remains out of reach until the sensitivity ends,
usually with the onset of menses–though there is debate the sensitivity
fluctuates for some women at other times in their cycle. What’s important to
realize is that the symptoms do disappear, sometimes instantaneously, whether
it is the day the menstrual cycle starts or several days later. And suddenly,
things are back to normal…but often leaving a great deal of destruction behind.
In fact, women with PMDD often feel as though they spend two or more weeks a
month in hell and the other two or less making up for it.
Think you might have PMDD? Here’s what
you’ll want to do:
1. Start by paying attention to your
cycle and taking notes. Get yourself a pocket calendar or use and app like
iPeriod or PMS Tracker. Then start keeping track. When do symptoms hit? When do
they stop? What are the main symptoms and to what degree are they experienced?
Do they progressively get worse? Think not just of physical symptoms. Consider
your emotional and mental states as well. Are you more prone to tears or
anxiety? Is it more difficult to think positively? Have others commented about
a change in your mood?
2. Take several months of your notes
with you to your doctor if you decide to take a Western approach. Explain that
you think you may have PMDD. If he or she dismisses you, find another
doctor–one who will help you determine whether or not you have it, explain your
options (they aren’t all that great at the moment and there is no known cure),
and work with you to help you cope.
3. Educate yourself and find additional
support. As a relatively new disorder, there is still much to be discussed and
researched about PMDD. Read up on it online and talk to others who have it.
Women who realize they have a condition with a name to it are usually very
relieved when they realize they are not alone…and not crazy! Facebook has
several groups, both open and closed, including a support group for family
members of PMDD sufferers that offer insight, coping strategies, the latest
science, and a safe place to vent.
If you do indeed have PMDD, now that you
know, you can give yourself the support you need to get through it. It may call
for changes in your diet, supplements, exercise and meditation, or even
medication. And if you don’t have it? Chances are you know someone who does,
and she might not realize what it is. So share what you’ve learned with others
and help spread the word about PMDD.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Chemical Sensitivities and PMDD
Over the years I've become increasingly more
sensitive to chemicals, fragrances, and any kind of scented products, be they
cat litter, candles, or cosmetics. If a
product has a petroleum base and a name that is clearly made up--such as Ocean
Breeze or Home Made Apple Pie--I need to stay as far away from it as possible. I first discovered this over twenty years ago
when a woman walked into the office where I worked and offered to sell me knock-off
versions of expensive perfumes and proceeded to spritz them all over the
place. She left without a sale as I instantly
developed a massive headache that lasted the rest of the afternoon.
My list of substances to avoid grew from there. Wood smoke, treated lumber, paraffin candles,
any kind of scented candles or room deodorizers, home cleaning products, paints
and stains, body lotions, soaps, shampoos, deodorants, and eventually, even the
real brands of premium perfume. I now can't go to the mall, pet store,
electronics store, furniture store, home improvement store or beauty shop
without taking a Benadryl. I need to
stay out of the cleaning products, pet supplies, paint, tire, shoe, furniture, and
home accents aisles in discount and department stores.
As for seasonal items like the Christmas aisle with
its scented pine cones and stuff? Forget
it. Neither can I visit used book stores
anymore, without succumbing to the smell of mold and must.
Recently, we uncovered water damage to a house we
bought three months ago and have yet to move into. My husband wants to strip the wallpaper, re-paint
and re-carpet the house, then air it out before I move in. The last house I moved into eight years ago
was new. I moved in early February and by
mid-April was so sick I collapsed. It
took another two months to recover, once I discovered problem: off gasses from the building materials such
as my carpet, vinyl, and laminate flooring (didn't help that this was winter
and my floors are heated), paint, kitchen counters and cabinetry. I thought I was just getting older. I did a lot of the move myself, moving one
mile down the road from my previous house, one carload at a time. Eventually I was sleeping all the time, but
unable to get any rest. My mind became
so foggy I couldn't get much of anything right.
I recall my boss asking, "Liana, what is wrong with you?"
A recovering perfectionist, I rarely made mistakes,
and suddenly I was making them all the time.
I was sitting at my desk, staring dumbly at no doubt my latest mistake
on the computer screen, and I remember telling her, speaking very slowly
because it was hard to form the words in my mind, "I...don't...know...all
I want...to do...is sleep." I called
the builder to ask if there could be a reason I was so tired and fuzzy-minded
all the time, and he suggested it was because I had no curtains and was getting
too much light in the house. Turned out all
I needed to do was open the windows. My
super energy efficient house was trapping all these off-gasses inside with me,
and I was breathing them over and over and over again. Within a week the house was cleared out, and
I was on the road to recovery.
But yesterday I took a trip down memory lane. Due to the water damage in our new home, my
husband and I had to go door shopping.
We also had an appointment to speak with a kitchen designer for a
remodeling project. To price doors, we
stopped at another builders supply store on the way. The salesman was wearing such strong cologne
I had to stand at least 15 feet away from him while he spoke with my
husband. As we left, I told my husband I
suddenly had the urge to eat anything and everything in sight, which is
something that happens when I get hormonal prior to my period. The thing was, we had just eaten breakfast
before leaving for the builders supply store, so I knew I wasn't hungry.
It was a combination of the man's cologne and the
smell of new building materials making me feel like I was starving.
We got to the second builders supply store, where we
had the appointment. Halfway through, my
husband said, "Your face and neck are turning bright red." The store was filled with carpet and flooring
samples, tiles, and kitchen and bathroom cabinetry. My husband left to get me a diet soda, which
for some reason I have yet to discern, always cuts my reaction to various substances.
When he returned, I took a Benadryl, which also helped to ease my symptoms
somewhat. But by the time we had been in
the store an hour and a half, even with taking the Benadryl and drinking the
diet soda--it has to be diet for this to work for me--my fingers started
swelling and tingling. By the time we
left, my wrists were tingling. It
usually moves up my arm and into my shoulders if I don't take a Benadryl and/or
remove myself from the situation. But
once it starts tingling, I know it will get painful very soon, as my insides will
swell up and press on the meridian nerves in my arms. I had this constantly when I was pregnant, so
much so that nightly I would sit in my rocking chair with my big belly and cry
from the sheer pain of it.
(Pop quiz. What happens when you are pregnant? You are an estrogen factory.)
So we wrapped up that appointment and headed for the
paint store, to get sample cards of the color we had chosen for the kitchen. I was not in the store three minutes before I
noticed I was firmly massaging my arms, something I do when my body gets
stressed from chemical exposure and starts to hurt. I didn't smell a thing, but then I don't need
to smell anything before my body reacts.
I discovered this one night when leading a faith sharing group at a
friend's house. She knew I couldn't be
around burning candles, but the moment I walked into her house, the words
"Something's wrong" blurted out of my mouth. No one heard me, and I took my regular seat
on the floor in front of the couch, as due to back problems I cannot sit on
soft furniture. I saw no candles in the room, but as the meeting progressed, my
head started to spin and pound and first my hands, then arms, then whole body
began to ache until the pain felt like it was deep in my bones and all I wanted
to do was curl up in a fetal position and cry.
If I hadn't been leading the meeting, I would have
left. Finally, I asked my hostess,
"Are you sure you didn't burn any candles in here before we came tonight?"
and she swore she hadn't. I said,
"Well something's wrong with me and I can't figure it out." Did you do any special cleaning for the
meeting? "No," she said, "all
I did was spray the couch with Febreeze."
The same couch I had been sitting on the floor leaning
up against all night.
My intuition knew something was wrong the moment I
entered the room. My mouth even blurted
it out. I didn't smell a thing, but my
body reacted instantly and painfully. To
this day I cannot be anywhere near Febreeze.
I wince just watching the commercials, people spraying it all over their
homes, laundry, and cars.
But back to our shopping trip. After the kitchen design appointment, my
husband stopped at two more building materials stores to check prices. I did not go inside. I was feeling a bit battered by then. After he came out of the first store, instead
of turning the car around and leaving, he made a circle by driving thorough the
warehouse, where contractors pick up loads of lumber. I groaned inside as the fan system in our air
conditioned car pulled in the scent of all that treated lumber. After we visited the second store, and then
the paint store, I announced, "We're going to get something to eat. Right now." We went to a sub shop, and I wolfed that baby
down so fast you would think I hadn't eaten in three days. Thank God it wasn't our first date or my
husband would have wondered about this woman who eats like a Doberman.
As soon as I finished my sub, my husband
says..."There she is. My wife is
back again." During the appointment
and shopping stops, I had become listless and withdrawn, my energy sapped. I could barely focus on the choices they
wanted me to make. I just wanted to get
out of there. I had chosen that store
because the woman and I had worked together before twice. We hadn't seen each other in nine years though,
and since then, I'd entered perimenopause.
She was tall and thin and stylishly dressed, while I was feeling fat and
puffy, dim-witted and inadequate. Afterward,
I determined (in my building-materials-chemical buzzed mind) that I was a
failure in life and wouldn't return to that store ever again because the
differences between us threw into stark relief her success and my failures.
Hello? I'm
now descending into a full-blown case of PMDD.
My insecurities are rising, and my mind is starting to go
irrational. By now every word my husband
speaks is starting to irritate me, so I withdraw even further into myself and
look out the window and keep my mouth shut, because I know if I open it, I will
explode with anger and resentment and he will get this shell shocked look on
his face.
We get home, and all I want to do is go to my
computer, where behind the veil of the internet, I can answer questions about
PMDD and help people to understand the disorder and feel like I am making a
difference in someone's life. I need
this feeling in this moment to feel any sense of self-worth.
This is how badly these building materials chemicals
have distorted my thinking processes.
Instead, I ask my husband if he wants to go for a
walk. Maybe the fresh air will clear my
head and make me feel better, because by now I ache all over and just want to
go to bed and curl up under the covers and cry.
Instead, we pass a few lawns freshly treated with
pesticide, and I come home feeling worse than ever.
The evening is a loss. The only option for me is to take another
Benadryl and go to bed.
Where it turns out I cannot sleep, my mind is so
agitated and upset. I can't stop
thinking about how insecure and inadequate I felt during my kitchen design
appointment. How overwhelmed I was by
the whole process. That is not me. I have
designed and built two houses and remodeled two others. I can do this stuff in my sleep. But inundated by the scent of building
materials, I lost my self-confidence and sense of self-worth, and in essence
brought on an episode of PMDD.
If I hadn't turned red and my husband hadn't noticed
it, I would never have known what happened.
If this had happened years ago (and maybe it did,
I've simply forgotten), I would never have known what happened. Instead, I would have spent a few hours
looking at building materials, chosen the cabinets, tile, flooring and paint
for what promises to be a beautiful kitchen, and come home feeling overwhelmed,
worthless, insecure, sad, angry, frustrated, combative, weepy, and ravenous,
and never understood why. That, in turn
would have made me wonder if I was crazy.
Here I am, getting everything I want, and yet all I want to do is snap
my husband's head off. I want to lash
out at him so badly I hurt from containing all my rage inside.
Or so I think.
In reality, my body is being chemically disrupted by what are called
xenoestrogens, and they are playing havoc with my hormones, and that is f*****g
with my brain.
So the next time you're out shopping and come home
feeling any of the above, or visit a friend's house who uses petroleum-based
cleaning products, candles and/or air fresheners and come home feeling weird
and moody--know that it is not you. It
is the chemicals in the air around you messing with your mood and mind. They may also be making you feel physically miserable,
which brings on that endless loop of negative thoughts we're all so familiar
with, which in turn makes us feel sad and/or angry.
Look around you.
Look in your home. Do you use
these sorts of petroleum-based products?
Are you unknowingly making yourself sick? Some women report that they feel like they
are in the PMDD zone all of the time.
Sometimes this is due to perimenopause, but it could also be due to what
you touch and breathe in all day. Do
you work in an auto parts store? A
furniture store where most of the items are made of particleboard? At the
mall? A lumber yard? A kitchen and bath store? An electronics store? Do you clean houses for a living? Are you a flight attendant? Did you just move your office into a new
building or remodel your home? Are you a
cashier and handle thermal paper receipts all day?
There are any number of options for how and where
you can be exposed to these xenoestrogens that wreak havoc on your
hormones. Awareness is the key.
But most of all, when you start acting all funky and
not like yourself at all...look around you for a possible reason. Did you just buy tires and sit in the waiting
room while they were put on? THINK about
this. Think about where you go and what you do.
I bet that suddenly a few things will start to make
a lot more sense.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To
Hello, everyone. I've promised my friends, family, and readers I would start blogging regularly again in September. It's September. Yesterday was also Wednesday, my best day, schedule-wise, for blogging. Problem was, I didn't feel like writing. About anything.
I got my first inklings something was up on Sunday morning, when I woke up groggy, head hurting, and ravenous. Determined to beat the PMDD blues, I ate a bowl of Cheerios (quick acting carbs) and went back to sleep for an hour and a half. The next time I woke up, I felt better, more on an even keel thanks to the carbs and an extra sleep cycle, and so I vowed to not let my PMDD ruin *my* day.
And it didn't. Not that day or the next. Almost nothing could get me down, although at the oddest times, I found myself looking off into the distance and just wanting to cry.
Tuesday I embarked on a project that would challenge anyone's ability to concentrate. For hours I sifted through airline websites and travel reservation matrixes, trying to find the best dates, flight times, and price for two seats to Europe. The print function on my computer wouldn't cooperate, so I had to hold all the information in my head from screen to screen to screen. My desk was littered with sticky notes on which I'd scribbled the names of potential destinations, airlines, and prices.
I also learned something about redeeming rewards points with a certain airline that makes a big fuss about their rewards miles program, but shall go unnamed at this point. If you have one person paying with mileage rewards points, and another paying full fare...at least when you're headed to Europe...it's almost impossible to get on the same flights. They offer one set of flight choices for the rewards points flyer, and another set of choices for the paying customer. I could get us on the same flight leaving, but getting us on the same flight coming home was like finding a needle in a haystack.
I thought I had done it, but four hours later, when all was said and done, I had chosen outgoing flights that were ten minutes apart. One said 10:30 a.m., the other said 10:40 a.m. (This was while my print function was still working.)
So I started all over, this time coming at it from a different angle. My partner's rewards points with his credit card company. Success!! Or so I thought. Once I hit Select Flight, the price, advertised as 20% less than the going rate, rose exponentially. Like to the tune of double the going rate.
It was cheaper to go with Orbitz and pay full fare for both tickets, rewards points be damned. Some reward. They like you to earn those points, but apparently aren't all that keen on helping you to redeem them.
So...flights chosen, I'm now filling out the information. Here's something new. I need to input the names of who will be traveling exactly as they appear on the identification we will be using -- in this case our passports. I call my partner. He doesn't know what his passport says. He says he will check and call me back in less than an hour.
He gets busy and forgets.
My day takes a nosedive. By the time he arrives to spend the evening together, I'm not speaking to him.
It's that simple.
I busted my brain on the computer for several hours, trying to do what *he* suggested. In the end I found out it was almost impossible. Sure, I could have managed one rewards ticket and one paid fare if I wanted to change planes twice and spend 19 or more hours getting home on a flight that takes 8 and a half hours non-stop.
In the end I got both tickets for $300 more than we would have paid had we gone with one free ticket from my tightfisted airline miles company, but we're on that nonstop return flight...together. When it's time to come home, we're coming straight home. No missed connections or lost luggage for us, baby.
But I digress.
He forgets to call. I am furious. Just that fast. And there is nothing he can do to make it right. And I mean no-thing. I am in the mood for a fight. And I don't care who I fight with. My son makes an equally available target. He disappears into his room as I start sniping at both of them. Sharp tones and snide comments left and right. I know I am doing it, and I don't care. I feel unloved, unappreciated, unheard, unhappy, unhealthy, unfit, un-everything. You name it. No one understands me. No one cares. No one appreciates the things I do around here.
"I see the weekend is over," my partner says quietly.
We had an amazing weekend. Truly amazing. Went to church, went for a sunset walk, went to a festival, met all sorts of interesting people, played miniature golf, went for a drive in the country, cooked a couple of fantastic dinners, slow danced...he even presented me with a 30 minute DVD of a slide show of my recent trip to Alaska, set to soothing music. It was my birthday and it was beautiful.
But all of that was gone in my PMDD mind. All that mattered to me right then and there was he didn't call me back, he didn't appreciate my time, my work, or me.
His quiet words were my cue that I had crossed the line.
I apologized. Sincerely. Because I knew I was wrong. He kissed me good night and we parted on good terms, with him saying he understood. I went to bed and again, just wanted to cry.
Yesterday morning I didn't want to wake up. All morning I couldn't concentrate, couldn't stay focused on any one task. Couldn't even contemplate writing a blog post. By afternoon, my brain literally hurt, like it was inflamed or something, and I found myself reaching for my PMDD foods....almonds, oranges, cottage cheese, and chocolate.
By evening I knew why.
My period had arrived.
Labels:
apathy,
awareness,
brain health,
concentration,
foggy thinking,
inflammation,
irritability,
lability,
PMDD,
relationships,
sleep
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
PMDD and the Trip of a Lifetime
This time last week I was in Alaska with six girlfriends. You’d think, since it was the trip of a
lifetime, one I had been wanting to go on for over twenty years, one I had been
planning and saving for and working
toward for over a year and a half, that I would be having the time of my
life.
I would have been, if my PMDD hadn’t decided to come
along.
The warning signs started over two weeks ago, with the
second day on the cruise ship. I awoke,
went to breakfast, went to a nature talk on what we could expect to see in Alaska , and could not stay awake to save myself. After the lecture, I bailed on my friends, went
back to the cabin, and slept soundly until I met up with everyone again for
lunch.
I spent the afternoon feeling groggy, but okay. Then we met for dinner (yes, you eat a lot on
cruise ships – it’s part of the experience).
Somewhere in the middle of the meal, I
literally felt something in my brain snap into place, like two pieces of a
puzzle. Like a connection that had come
unplugged had suddenly been plugged back in.
I felt awake, energized, clear-headed.
Now I could get on with my cruise and have fun. I said as much to my companions. We danced the night away.
Clearly, since that incident happened over two weeks ago, I was
ovulating.
A few days later, the sleepiness returned, despite getting
the best sleep of my life on the gently rocking ship. On the tenth day of the trip my irritability
arrived. I snapped at my companions, and
realized instantly I was having an episode.
I managed to hold my tongue for the rest of the day, but my inner thoughts ran
rampant on every negative thing I could think of regarding the trip. By evening I was in tears.
I decided the best thing for everyone involved would be for
me to go to bed early. I did, and slept
14 hours.
The next day nothing, and I mean nothing could make me smile.
Trip of a lifetime and I wanted to go home.
I warned the ladies – Tomorrow I will be weeping. They nodded in understanding.
It didn’t get that bad, fortunately. Instead I mostly dragged through the day, sighing heavily, and privately
wished I were home.
Three days later I got my wish. Once I was here, all I wanted to do was
sleep. (Well, I was awake for nearly 24 hours getting home.) I took a nap every afternoon, claiming
exhaustion from the trip. But I knew I was hormonal, too, and warned those closest to me.
My irritability returned, but again, after the first snap, I
kept it inside…or at least I think I did.
My son did his best to make himself scarce, which only irritated me
more. Didn’t he miss me while I was gone? He
didn’t miss my PMDD self, that was for sure.
Still, I felt hurt and rejected.
I reached for the chocolate.
Monday comes…my work week begins. I can’t get started. I can’t get organized. I wander around the house all morning,
putting little things away, sorting this, filing that, clearing clutter,
preparing myself to work, but doing no real work.
That afternoon I take a 3-hour nap. I awake ravenous and craving chocolate. I am in full bore PMS mode (yes, you CAN have
both PMS and PMDD) when that night and the next I make salty dinners. Shrimp stir fry with Tamari the first
night. Tuna the second. (I wanted tuna casserole, which is very
salty, but somewhere in the day lost the motivation to make it, so settled for
tuna salad and chocolate cake instead.)
My period is coming, but it’s not here yet.
This morning I have brain fog. I tried to pay bills. Forgot to date one check, and forgot to
include the credit card payment check in its envelope. Par for the course with PMDD. Small mistakes, but with big repercussions
had I mailed them that way. Instead, I
ripped open the envelopes, made things right, and taped them up again. At least I was still thinking clearly enough
to catch my mistakes.
At least I’m still thinking clearly enough to write. That, too, may change in the next few
hours. Can you imagine how terrifying this
loss of control is to a woman who does not know she has PMDD? She has no idea what is happening to
her. All she knows is in the next few days, or even hours, she will lose her ability to both think clearly and control her emotions.
And there’s absolutely nothing she can do to stop it. Once that
ship sets sail, it doesn’t stop until it wrecks.
Homes. Families. Relationships.
I am blessed in that I am in safe home, family, and relationship
situations. Those who are closest to me,
those who spend the most time with me, are all understanding and
supportive.
But what if that wasn’t my situation? What if I was in an abusive
relationship? Or living with someone who
simply thought I was lazy and self-centered?
What if I lived with someone who called me crazy when this
happened? What if I lived with someone
who didn’t want to be around me when it happened? Who threatened to leave me if I didn't shape up?
What if I lived with someone who screamed and yelled at me,
ordered me to snap out of it, called me names, and/or demanded, “What’s wrong with you?”
Self esteem takes a swan dive during a PMDD episode. We feel unlovable to start with during this
time. Anything you say or do to make it
worse will be magnified at least tenfold in our minds. We are fragile and we don’t know why. We need love and we want to be left alone. It doesn’t make any sense to you,
and it doesn’t make any sense to us. We
didn’t ask for this to happen, and in most cases it will be a long time (due to
misdiagnoses and the hit or miss nature of treatments) before it stops
happening.
And once an episode begins, nothing, nothing brings you joy…not even the trip of a lifetime.
So be patient with yourself, and be patient with your
partner. Finding the key to your
individual situation will take time.
Look for answers from reputable sources.
Be wary of sources that claim to cure your PMDD. Be cautious about anyone who stands to gain financially from your disorder. Just like there are cheesy tourist traps when
you go on vacation, there are those who only seek to profit from your PMDD
misery. Navigating the waters of PMDD
products while searching for a solution can be choppy at best, and downright
treacherous at times. Hold on to the
wheel (aka your sanity) with both hands, and if you have someone to help you
when things get rough, be grateful for them and let them know it, no matter
what ugly thoughts are going through your mind.
Just keep mentally repeating, that’s my PMDD talking, not me, that’s my PMDD talking, not me.
Keep your mouth shut, and when the episode is over, thank
them for being there for you.
The more you do this, the easier it gets. And when you fail, see my post, They Only See Our Failures.
Take care, God Bless, and be proud of yourself. Not every woman has the strength to wrestle
with her PMDD, month after month after month.
But you are here, and looking for answers to yours. That’s something worth recognizing and
applauding.
Labels:
brain health,
cravings,
foggy thinking,
irritability,
perceptions,
PMDD,
sadness,
sleep
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