The consequence of feeling well while PMDD is that I am not in enough pain to write about it. I gasp when I realize that I’ve been fine and wonder when the other shoe will drop. I feel almost normal and a bit guilty for not suffering. Ultimately, I am simply happy to experience a literally boring period.
However symptomatically free from PMDD I think I am, I really am not. I am never really free of the wrath of PMDD. It’s insidiousness bleeds through in other areas of my life. This month it was my being overly vocal; righteously indignant of other people’s shortcomings and my overall empathy level was so insignificant that there was no measure to calculate.
Upon the first drop of blood shed I immediately felt a sense of guilt and impending doom. My integrity and personal conduct in question and although I can honestly say that I believe that I am creating a bigger deal of it than anyone remembers, it’s still my honor. In my heart of hearts, I know my truth.
The consequence of feeling well in PMDD is that it’s not to be trusted…that feeling shouldn’t over ride the self care that has been put in place not even for a moment.
To thine own self be #decidedlySane