the journal entries { - FICTION - }

You have exactly one hour.

That’s all I’m giving you. One fucking hour. Not one minute more, not one minute less.

One fucking hour away from him, away from her, away from everyone and everything.

If you don’t calm the fuck down in one fucking hour, you will drive yourself to the hospital and demand they do something… Like lock your ass up!

You’re a monster.

Out of fucking control monster.

They deserve so much more than you. They’ve never done anything to you but bring you joy and here you are freaking the fuck out on them time and time again. Because he dropped some fucking play-doh on the floor, because she didn’t want to eat the goddamn meatballs you took all of 60 seconds to nuke. You freak the fuck out on them. You know you’re doing it. You know you’re scaring them. Your voice gets so loud. Your face—dear god, I can only image the face I make when they fucking set me off!

You make them cry. You berate them. You torture their feelings, their thoughts, their innocence.

You fucking monster.

Deep breathing, stepping outside, food, listening to The Doors… nothing helps anymore. And you know you can’t drink because you have no control. So just go and get some help already. Send this to someone. Show Anthony this so he can see just how royally fucked up you are. But why hasn’t he done something by now? Other than warn me that I’d end up like this? That he could see little child under a table hiding from Mommy, telling him, “Mommy’s in the bathroom crying again!”? Why not get me some fucking help instead of mocking me. Fuck Anthony. Fuck the kids. Fuck you!!!

***

One week later:

My PMS is out of control. Clearly. I just got my period yesterday and just like that I can come here and be rational. I don’t need to spew such god-awful things. Look what I wrote up there. Look at it. Maybe I should just take this to someone. But who?

I could show Anthony but I can’t see him saying anything more than, “I told you so.”

Yes, he told me he worried for the safety of our children before we had them. Yes, he told me he worried about my anger.

But I was sure it would subside with kids. And it did at first but it’s just gotten so bad lately… this past year. So very bad. And scary.

I’m a completely different person when I’m PMSing. It’s not a fucking joke. I really need to get help- for them. They really do deserve a better Mommy than who I am most of every month.

Editor note: This piece is fiction but it comes from my reality with PMDD.

Normal

“Are you taking your drugs?”

“Why?!” I snap, tossing the TV remote on the bed amidst the dirty laundry we’re sorting. “What did I do now?”

“Are you taking them?” A black shirt dives into the dark pile.

“Why? Have you noticed a change in me? Because I have. I don’t feel like I’m acting differently, like I’m drugged, but I know I’m behaving differently.”

We’re standing next to each other in our bedroom, before our messy bed. I pick up a pillow and speak to it: “I’m not as… annoyed as I’ve been lately.”

He chuckles.

“I don’t mean annoyed so much as…”

“No,” he cuts me off. “I like the use of that word: Annoyed. It’s fitting.”

“But I don’t really mean you guys annoy me; I just was so … short fused. “

“Annoyed,” he chirps through a smile.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

My eyes rest upon the coins, blocks, papers, pens, crap that litter the dresser as my mind races to the Monster I was just a month ago. I compare that time to how I feel now, and I could burst into tears… tears of absolute relief.

I’m not annoyed anymore.

I feel Normal.

“I just asked,” Taye continues. “Because you didn’t flip out with the remote thing like you usually do.”

Still thinking about the difference from just one month ago, I reply, “I know! It’s so crazy to me. I would get… crazy!!”

Taye’s eyes widen and though the words never leave his mouth, I know he's thinking, Yes you would get crazy.

I drop my eyes back toward the piles on the bed, onto the TV remote I tossed moments ago. Had it been a month ago, I would’ve probably flung the damn thing to the floor. At the very least, I would’ve cussed at the remote and TV for not shutting off (seriously, you have to press the off button three times before it shuts off- DUMB!) and stormed out of the room, wanting to just run away from everything. I’m confident this would’ve happened a month ago, yet today I didn’t do that. Today, I shut the TV off and went about my business.

LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING.

Yeah, I’m a little crampy, I’m incredibly tired, and the calendar indicates the blood should be coming any day now… but, I’m not angry at the world. I’m not envisioning (maybe even hoping for) horrendous things happening.

Instead, I actually like my husband and my daughter. I love them. They make me laugh and smile. They make me feel so blessed.

Instead, life is fucking beautiful again. Every day. Not just half of the month, but the whole month; it’s beautiful.

Yeah, life is still moving forward: The days have been hot (so hot!); traffic has been horrendous on my drives home thanks to summer and the city life that everyone thinks is so grand when they don’t live and breathe it every day; Lovie's still 2 and sometimes acts as such; Taye still lets the garbage overflow; work is boring as fuck; people do and say stupid shit day in a day out.

But I’m different. I’m Normal. I don’t feel like screaming or crying. I don’t feel like finding a deep, dark hole to crawl into.

I like my life again. Every day, I like it.

So yeah I’m taking my drugs.

TILTW: 5/24-6/1

* Sometimes, it really is best to just get outside and do something for a bit. Sunday's record hot day tried keeping me indoors but we went ahead and piled in the car to go visit my 88 year old grandmother for her birthday. And... we survived and we all had a really lovely day. Such a difference from Saturday where I barricaded myself in my room all day. :( When we got home, Lovie played with her new water table (photo) for a while. It was hard getting her to come in and eat dinner she was loving it so much.

* I went to my gynecologist on Tuesday and had a bit of a breakdown when describing to him the Monster I feel like I am for half of the month. We talked a lot about everything and he's pretty sure I have PMDD and prescribed Prozac. I pray the shit works. Time will tell.

* Lovie's been without a binky now for a week. My big girl. She still brings it up at bedtime but we just ignore it and she moves on and goes to bed. I think she sleeps more soundly since she doesn't have the pacifier to wake up to find. That said, I think she doesn't sleep as long but we'll find that out this weekend. We'll also see if we can get the little chica to take a nap as she all out refused all last weekend and when she's overtired, she's a bear.

* Today's my wedding anniversary. 5 years. We've been together for 12 so it seems way longer than that. Then again, it doesn't. Honestly, I can't believe he's put up with me for this long. And with that, today marks the start of a 6-day weekend for us. Holla!

WW: 10 years in one file

inside that file holds the contents of my female parts for the past 10 years... the story of my issues with weight, heavy periods, birth control methods, 2 pregnancies, 1 miscarriage, 1 d&c, 1 birth, and a possible diagnosis of PMDD.