Danger Zone

(from the Still.Alone project)

It always starts the same way; unfortunately, until the cysts appear on my neck I always miss the signs. I begin to withdraw from social contact: For instance, if I have dating profiles active I take them down. I avoid or break things off with men who would like to get to know me better. My girlfriends and family members probably wonder what happened to me. I stare at the phone when it rings but don’t answer it. I rarely return calls, and I almost never initiate them. I become schizoid, instead of merely avoidant.

Then I curl up into a little ball and cry because I am lonely.

Within a matter of days my depression becomes borderline clinical: I begin to wear the same black knit outfit every day because I’m too tired to go into my closet to pick out something different. I have trouble thinking and focusing. Television commercials make me cry and I fixate on the emotional woundings from my past. I oversleep and am late to work nearly every day. The bills pile up. I either ignore my daughter completely, or worse, I begin to scream at her for doing the normal irritating teenaged things like not cleaning her room.

After approximately two weeks of this living hell I get my period and I feel just fine!

That is, I feel fine for about two weeks, at which time the whole miserable cycle begins anew. I started taking birth control pills last summer in the hopes of evening out my moods because I am the poster woman for Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD). I has also may have entered perimenopause because the symptoms can be very similar. Unfortunately, despite hopeful beginnings it appears that after five months of taking the pills, and despite the fact that I’m only getting my period every third month, my body seems hell-bent on giving me PMS every few weeks anyway.

This time it was pretty bad. This weekend I visited my favorite person in the world, my sister. She’s one of the few people in this world who actually “gets” me and her adorable, bright and well brought up children are a joy to be around. Plus, it was Christmas! Unfortunately I was in such a bad way that I could barely keep myself present and in the moment. All I wanted to do was curl up in a little ball, wrap myself in a blanket, drink my tea, and stick my nose in a book. I felt no joy in anything. Fortunately, my sister can relate to my situation and was very cool about it.

My trip home was the last straw: Here I was on Christmas Day in my beautiful brand new car with the navigation, the awesome stereo system and the XM radio, having just spent a nice weekend with people I love. I passed over a drawbridge and all of a sudden it occurred to me: I could just veer a little bit to the right, and I’d go right off this bridge, and then it would be all over. It would even look like an accident.

I quickly changed lanes and slowed my car down, hugging the median. Just keep driving, you crazy bitch. I resolved that I would call my doctor in the morning.