Greeting readers,

Welcome to another Writing Wednesday post. This week, I have something a little different in mind.

(Warning: this post contains talk of mental health issues, neurodiversity, and self-harm. If any of these things are triggering for you, please put yourself first and skip this post. <3)

You might have noticed my absence from social media over the last couple of days, compared to my three posts a day in the previous couple of weeks.

The reason for this?

I have an angry black ball of static inside me. It has claws and fangs, and it snaps at everything, even those I love.

It sucks all the colour and happiness from the world, leaving me disinterested in my passions and wanting to do nothing but sleep.

I’m speaking of premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD).

For those unaware, premenstrual dysphoric disorder is like premenstrual syndrome (PMS) on steroids.

WebMD says:

"It's likely that you’ve had some type of PMS since you started your period. Doctors believe that as many as three-quarters of women who get periods have some signs of PMS, whether it’s food cravings, cramps, tender breasts, moodiness, or fatigue.

But PMDD is different. It causes emotional and physical symptoms similar to PMS, but people with PMDD find their symptoms draining. Your PMDD symptoms could interfere with your daily life, including work, school, social life, and relationships."

The first warning sign this month was a horrific nightmare that I woke from breathing heavily. I ran downstairs and sobbed in my husband’s arms.

You’d think, after around 28 years of this, I’d be used to it by now, but every month, it hits me like a freight train.

Even when I’m using symptom trackers, sometimes the signs come unexpectedly, a week or more earlier than anticipated.

Along with the aforementioned nightmares, disinterest in my passions, and the ‘black ball of static,’ I also deal with insomnia, out-of-control acne that makes me feel like a teenager, and breasts so tender that even the slightest movement causes pain to shoot through my body, to name just a few.

A full list of symptoms can be found on the WebMD site. I experience a variety of these symptoms from month to month. Sometimes the same symptoms reoccur regularly, sometimes a new one pops out to visit. It’s like drawing numbers from a hat …

Only instead of numbers, it’s an array of “delightful” experiences such as trouble concentrating or appetite changes (for me, this commonly includes an aversion to meat).

I deal with this for an average of 10-15 days every month. On top of my existing autism and (yet to be diagnosed) ADHD, which can also have similar and overlapping symptoms.

And yes, these conditions are more common together and can exacerbate each other.

On my best days, I’m lethargic, capable of little more than lying in bed dozing. At my worst, I feel anxious for no reason, liable to burst into tears at little to no provocation, and I HATE everything.

The sounds of birds chirping outside? Hate it. The touch of my husband as he tries to comfort me? Hate it. My passion for writing and reading? Hate it.

Me? You guessed it. I hate it.

I start to wish I didn't exist. Thankfully, I have enough positives in my life that I very rarely think about hurting myself. I do wish I could hibernate or turn myself off, like a computer, until all this passes.

I know this isn’t forever. In a week or so, I will be back to my old self, excited about life and wanting to enjoy all that it throws at me (even when times are tough).

But when that little black ball of static appears, it’s hard to see through the darkness and to the light at the end of the tunnel.

Honestly, I don’t know how I made it to 41 and raised two (mostly normal) kids. Actually, I do. I have an amazing husband and a fantastic support system in the form of my mom and stepdad, my sister, and online friends. Even if I don’t always share my struggles with them, they’re there, willing to do anything for me.

I’m fortunate that at the moment, the government has deemed me as having a ‘limited capacity for work and work-related activities,’ meaning I receive benefits to live off. Without them, well … let’s not go down that dark path, shall we?

I hope that by the time my next assessment comes around, I will have seen both a psychiatrist to assess me for ADHD (and start treatment) and either a gynaecologist or another psychiatrist to assess me for PMDD (and discuss treatment).

I am very much in favour of medication when needed and believe antidepressants saved my life. But I also know that they’re not a magic ‘fix-all’. I have spent the last year having ADHD coaching and learned so much about myself and how my brain works, including how to be kinder to myself.

I can also admit I need to make some lifestyle and dietary changes. But I can see that it will be hard for me, and I could do with some extra support in terms of medication. My hope is to be prescribed stimulants for ADHD. The PMDD part is a little trickier, as I am already receiving the go-to treatment of antidepressants and birth control. Hopefully, a medical professional with experience in the field will be able to guide me in the right direction, though.

And until then, I’ll just stock up on Ghibli movies, mac and cheese, and chocolate. And, in the wise words of the Persian adage, I’ll remember ‘This too shall pass.’

I’ll be back this Friday discussing some of the comic books and comic characters I love.

Until then, take care and stay creative.

T.T.F.N