I’m watching Rock of Ages, with Tom Cruise. Not my favorite movie, but I was thinking, if I had a manager that shielded my worst days from the world. I could be a doggone rock star in life too.
Not to brag, but: “I’m kind of a big deal” as my husband says about himself all the time. 🙂
I am a fun, clever, wonderful person…for real.
The abuse in my childhood/teen years either makes you or breaks you.
It made me who I am today. That and God. I know I am a good person somewhere in here. I know she is there because I see her in the reflection of the eyes of my family and friends sometimes.
I just can’t find her with PMDD most of the time.
I say most of the time, because after years of PMDD, PTSD and adrenal fatigue are also part of my daily life. This causes the symptoms to run into one another throughout the month.
Last month, I had one of those really good months where I almost forgot I had PMDD and thought it was all in my head. I saw their reflections and it was magical.
Until then, the last time I felt good was November 2010. And yes, I remember the month and year of last time I felt energetic and excited about life. It was so out of the ordinary, I remember where I was and what I was doing. I was trying to start a photography business and become a real estate agent and leap over tall buildings with a single bound from all the energy. It was probably “normal” energy people experience, but I have so little most of the time it felt over the top to me!
Of course December 2010 crept in like thief and started to drain me like a leech drains blood, just like it is now.
Right now, depression is hovering over me. It is starting to change my breathing pattern. It’s starting to cloud my mind. It’s creeping into my muscles and bones. Depression is not only mental pain. It’s physical.
It zaps all my energy and carries it away to a place I have yet to find. It’s hidden, locked away somewhere.
I search for my faith. I search for God’s face to shine on me. It doesn’t during these times. He is hiding out with my joy somewhere.
Christ said, HE is my joy….really? I can’t tell during these times.
I do salvage my faith somehow each month, knowing it is the depression and He is still with me, but oh how I wish I could feel Him.
And then there is the sadness. I won’t use the word depression, because it is overused and most people think they already know what it is.
I think sadness is almost more paralyzing than the anger that follows PMDD . No. Not harder…. It’s more personal.
Love, joy, hate, anger, happiness, jealousy….None of those feelings exist. Nothing exists. Just the blanket of sadness.
When anger is surging through my body, I am at least alive and I somehow want to stay alive. The anger is like puppet master who attaches itself to me to control my mouth, my brain, my words.
Sadness is different. It’s quiet and starts to burrow it’s way down into the pit of my heart. Once it has latched on to my insides, it is almost impossible to shake for days and days.
In those days, it is better to sleep than to be awake.
Awake will inevitably lead to the fight with death. Death seduces me and tempts me with the promise of the heaviness being over.
Sad seems such a non-threatening word doesn’t it? It doesn’t have all the flare of rage or jealously. It doesn’t boast emotion like joy or anger. It just sits quietly in my intestines, in my bones, in my head and in my heart waiting to take me out like a sniper in war.
Sadness is war. Inside. It is a battle with a stealth enemy no one sees. I am almost unaware until it whispers: “You can’t do this anymore“. “The pain is too much“. “You will feel better when this life is over“.
BUT WAIT!!!!! My daughter. My son. My husband. They will miss me. “So.” They will be hurt! “But you are hurt“. I know….
“They will be better off without you“. “Your husband needs a better wife that enjoys life.” “Your kids might be hurt at first, but they will understand” No they won’t. They will be effected for the rest of their lives.
“But so will you. And you hurt them more than you help them, you know that” I know….
It’s not true. But it feels like truth in the sadness.
The fight is exhausting. I am weary after 40 years of fighting it and somewhere in the back of my mind, the sniper sits quietly in camouflage waiting to take the last deadly shot, with a slight grin on his face.
But not this time. Not today.
I am in tears as I write this. I canceled a photo shoot for the last time today. I will not stick my head out to the real world again until I am symptom free for at least three months in a row. I am not sure yet how that will happen (diet, supplements, surgery, etc), but I have to trust there will be a soft landing month after month before I risk disappointing anyone again.
The pain of canceling anything is more than I can bare and it make the depression worse.
I NEED to create…I NEED to live my dream. It is killing me slowly to have my dreams taken from me.
The following link gives you a glimpse into the passion and joy I have for photography. Not to show you my work, but to gives you a visual of my potential without PMDD and hopefully you will see my joy there and why the pain of not having it is so deep. (Most of these were taken before I taught myself the importance of lighting, for all you photography buffs)