There’s no other way to say it, PMT sucks. Fact. It really does. If you are one of those ladies who sails through this time without going through any sort of hormonal rollercoaster, then I envy you, I really do. I am one of the rest. One of those women who become a different person, for anything up to a week for one week a month. I’ve suffered with PMT forever, some months are better than others and my personal Godzilla barely surfaces. But other months …..
For most of the time I am a fairly rational individual, I can cope with most things that life throw at me (other than Daddy P’s work/home balance!!). I’m normal. I have good days and bad, but I’m normal.
Then Godzilla returns and tempers fray and the stress levels rise. It’s definitely getting worse as I get older. PMT sucks. Stupid things will have me in tears. My sewing machine messes up and I need to unpick something and start again. I’m reduced to a quivering wreck. A quick exit is made before I start crying in front of other ladies. It isn’t me, it’s Godzilla. Godzilla may be a monster, but she’s very complex. She will cry at the blink of an eye, shout out loud that someone put an empty milk bottle in the recycling rather than in the junk modelling pile for school. She gets incredibly stressed about the smallest things and becomes paranoid about her abilities. She puts things in strange places, only for me to find them a few days later and wonder what’s gone on. She finds it hard to cope with anything out of the norm, is floored easily and heaven forbid that anything goes wrong in her presence. A blue mist descends and Godzilla is like a hunted animal, not knowing which way to turn.
PMT sucks, to the point that I wondered if I’d started the menopause. I’m edging ever closer to 50 (HOW can that be possible – in my heart I’m 26). But a while back I’d really had enough, so off to the Doctor I went. I don’t go to the Doctor unless my arm is falling off (or my toes – hence next weeks visit!). I booked an appointment with a female doctor in the hope that she might recognise my friend Godzilla and help me to banish her to the land that time forgot.
Uum ….. PMT sucks and so does that doctor quite frankly. She agreed to arrange tests for the menopause, but I’m telling you that they will come back negative. Ok, well that’s good and they did. Phew, the night sweats are held at bay for a while longer. She totally discounts PMT, no I think you are suffering from depression. Here are some self-help leaflets and I suggest you call the self-help number. Right, I’ve suffered from depression in the past. I KNOW I am not suffering from depression now, if I was I would have dealt with it. I’m not ashamed of it, it’s a chemical imbalance that anyone can suffer from. Godzilla disappears often and only ever comes out to haunt her prey at the same time every month. Aargh!
So the doctor was no help, ok I’ll just continue as before. A friend suggested an herbal remedy option which I did try. Ok, I probably should have tried it for longer than I did. But I couldn’t see any great improvement. So PMT sucks, and Godzilla has visited again this week, but this time it was a fleeting visit, perhaps she has new blood to track down! On Monday she left me in a heap. A person incapable of making decisions, of being the person I normally am. She played with my emotions and left me shaking like a leaf. But then she’s gone and I’m back, another month of PMT survived by me, endured by Daddy P and luckily barely noticed by Monkey.
I am left wondering what the menopause will have in store for me in years to come. Does Godzilla have a big sister that’s going to cause a trail of destruction in her wake as she thunders through our house?
Does Godzilla visit you when she’s leaving me alone? How do you beat her down? Or are you one of the lucky ones that are ex-directory as far as Godzilla is concerned?