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The Suck of PMDD and Perimenopause

Time to change our experience of “the change”

Look, I’ve fighting the brutality of PMDD since after the birth of my third child over thirteen years ago. Post-ovulation, my energy drops and I feel like I’ve been thrown off a cliff. Migraines attack. I’m fatigued, irritable, and just pray to make it through until I bleed. Any cramps or heavy bleeding once I start are a welcome relief after the 10 days prior to it. I’m so ready to be done with all this. But, until menopause comes, I need to change my experience of this mid-life change…..

What can be done? Let me tell you what I’ve already tried: acupuncture, exercise, meditation, yoga, chiropractic, journaling… For the first 6 years, I refused to try medication but then it got so bad that I was certain my life depended on it. So, I’ve tried medication too — multiple different ones.

The only time I ever felt somewhat better was during a time when I was on a very low carb eating plan. At that time, I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons. I was doing it to look a certain way. I dropped a lot of weight. My ribs were visible on my back. And you know what? I still felt like shit about myself. Sure, maybe my premenstrual symptoms were a bit better, but I had a gaping hole my sole. And that shit hurt.

Over time, I’ve done a lot of healing. I’m ok with me. I actually kind of like myself. I’m kinder and more forgiving. I gave perfectionism the massive boot. So, I’m ready to go back and see if I can use diet and intermittent fasting to feel better….

I’ve tried everything else.

If you are suffering with any of this, please reach out. You are so not alone…..

I’m going to love myself through this change the best that I can….and I’d love to bring you right along with me.

xoxoxo

A Fine Line

Lesson from the universe

I end up in the cashier’s line that I always try to avoid. She licks her fingers when she bags. She gives a bag for a single item. She is really, really slow. I “made that mistake” once.

I’ve been meditating daily for a few weeks now and I finally experience an awareness unlike what I’ve experienced before. “Stay present, Davida. Just notice. Just watch.” I say hello, tell her I’m trying to avoid taking bags (yes, I didn’t bring them in because I came in for a couple things. But you know how that goes. Target). I can see her stiffen. The same reaction as last time. Like she cannot comprehend my not wanting bags…

I notice her finger is bandaged. “Looks like you have a cut,” I say. She replies. “I have arthritis.” Exhale. No wonder she is slow. I feel my body relax. I lean in to the slow.

Item by item I manipulate and reveal the bar code. I’ve noticed that’s the hard part for her. She scans. We’re chatting. I say something inarticulate like “sorry about the arthritis.” She looks directly in my eyes. “No one is exempt from struggle.” Inhale deeply. Before he died, my father always said something similar…..I tell her that. “How old is he?” “Oh, I lost him 8 years ago. He was 81.” “I’m sorry,” she says and starts to apologize for bringing up something difficult…it was ok. I let her know. No one is exempt.

And then I look up at her and we smile at each other. A knowing smile. An “I see you smile.” Like…I really see you.

And I like to think the universe smiled too. Two people out of their comfort zone. Coming together. Connecting. And to think: the line I’ve been avoiding all this time may now be the line I seek. Its a fine line:

“No one is exempt.”

Well, here it is. I’m in the midst of a stressful time. Too many projects, people, events, organizations pulling at me. Worthy, good projects, events, organizations, people. And I am feeling it. Overwhelmed.

In the past, I had a very trusted friend to turn to at these times. Her name is Sugar and she and I go way, way, way back. Man is she sweet.

Unfortunately, Sugar has a darker side. She’s super seductive and yet pretends she’s totally innocent. Trust me. She is anything but.

Sugar whispered in my ear. She told me it would all be better and she’d make it all OK. Honestly, she took my mind off all that ailed me and it felt like she loved me, wanted to sooth me. She was oh so good at first……. But, there was a problem. Once Sugar took hold of me, it didn’t take long until I couldn’t really think of anything else but her. When we hooked up I was complete and whole and nothing else existed in the world. When we finished our rendezvous I was so satisfied.

For a moment.

It never took long and I was waiting until I could just see her again.

A few weeks back, post-entirely too many frozen dark chocolate Justin peanut butter cups, post-coffee cream panettone, post truffle chocolates, and croissants, and miscellaneous holiday treats, I looked up and knew I had to end it. She was controlling my day, my life, my world.

Ah, now, I have to do things differently. I actually have to cope with the stress and the discomfort I’m feeling. With the “it’s all too much” and “I’m not enough.” It’s painful. It hurts. And yet I’m making a choice, a brave choice, to FEEL.

You see, I’ve given myself permission this time around. Yes, you can feel scared. You can feel overwhelmed. You can feel worry and frustration and fear. You can feel not enough and that it’s all too much. And even with all those very, very forbidden, uncomfortable, overwhelming feelings, you can be present and you do not have to call Sugar up to come over. I promise. Sit with the feelings and they will morph, change, transform. As I write, they already are…..

So, here’s the question. Who’s your Sugar? Who are you having an affair with that isn’t serving you? Alcohol? Pills? Shopping? A bad relationship?

Feelings are easy to stuff down for a time being. We can stuff them down with sugar, or alcohol, or a multitude of other substances that don’t serve us. Or we can give them permission to exist. To be. “Hello darkness my old Friend,” as Paul Simon sang.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Release…..

The affair is over. Sugar made false promises. Dang, I loved her but she did me wrong. I know it won’t be easy to not take her back. But, I also know there is one thing that can make it much easier. Permission to feel, to be, to let whatever it is wash over, rise and fall like the ocean waves. I don’t need Sugar if I actually give me, me.

Silence makes my mind’s whirlwind of past and future slow to an almost imperceptible breeze, the sweetest pianississimo. The silence reveals the path; melt into the All One.

Silence was originally published in Chalkboard on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Smaller this year

Familiar faces now lined even more

Including mine

No little children

The moving sidewalk (as always) continues

We, on it…moving through

Sign ahead “Mid-Forties”
For our parents, theirs reads “Seventy”
Our oldest child approaches “Adult”

Oh that moving sidewalk…….
Which starts at birth for each of us
The final exit is the same

Pause is not an option
But
Do not be afraid

Each moment exists as a precious opportunity
Love
Joy
Acceptance
Hope

If we bring ourselves to each moment
To that which is
This is truly living

When we live well
Fully
The sidewalk ends just the same
But far from despair
We can be grateful

My prayer:
In each moment
Each breath
Each exhale
Each inhale
We take the opportunity

Moment by moment
We honor our truth
I honor the truth of we
By honoring the truth of me

And then, when all is said and done

The final bow’s been taken

That last exhale

We merge into the All One

And understand

We were never separate at all

The Family Gathering was originally published in This Glorious Mess on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Got on the scale today for the first time in a very long time. Six months? Possibly longer. Now that I’ve stopped measuring my self-worth on a scale, it’s easier. The number, no matter what it is, weighs less.

The truth is, for me, not stepping on the scale for so long takes courage. It’s the determination to believe in my worth. No. Matter. What. Now that that’s my mindset (at least most of the time), stepping on also feels courageous. Have I really let my attachment to the number go? Can I know the know the number but remain unwavering in my commitment to a self-worth manifesto? Can I just weigh occasionally? Gulp. There’s really only one way to find out….

Examples of ordinary courage surround us. I’m not speaking of extraordinary courage. Extraordinary courage is something in and of itself. But what about…..

The single parent? Those with invisible illnesses? The infertile couple? The elderly man who cares for his wife with dementia? The boy who sits alone every day? The hurt who open themselves to love again? The ignored, the forgotten, the lost, who walk among us just below eye level?

Don’t these require courage?

Bravery comes in many shapes and forms. We can’t always tell who is out there being brave today. At times each of us are called; we all inevitably cope with individual struggles that require courage. Some of us are called more than our fair share. That said, after 44 times around I’m convinced:

Heavy hearts make light souls……

So there we are. A spirit army.

Loyal to our true nature.

Together.

With outstretched wings.

We. Journey. On.

Spirit Army was originally published in This Glorious Mess on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Sometimes the words come
Quickly
Fiercely
And they insist
Put me down
Make me tangible
Take me out of the ether

The words wait
To be born of us
BORN BY US
They want to live
We are their hosts

Hear them…..

Put us down
Let us be seen
Don’t you see we float freely in the air
Until we find you
And we enter
Like a whisper from a lover

Ignore us and we get louder
And louder
And louder
PUT US DOWN
LET US LIVE

Do you not understand?

We do not belong to you
We belong to ourselves
You, the scribe
Do not be confused

Your self-worth is not wrapped up in transcription
Just breathe
Put us down
Give us to others

The messages that we bring
Are not only for you
They don’t belong to you

We come to you because you hear us
See us as a reflection of you?
Darling, please

Trust us
Love us
Breathe into us
Connect us
Share us

Sincerely,
We, the words….

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Sincerely, We The Words was originally published in New North on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Ode to PMDD

No longer fighting

I accept you

And this ebb/flow dance we’ve danced each month for a decade now

You are not the enemy

I see you instead as unwanted gift

Slow down

Tired one

Rest

Really

That is your lesson

For me

PMDD

I surrender

Not to you

Not instead of me

Reluctantly accepting

No, even choosing you

PMDD

I found a space where there are others like me

A place where points of light across the globe

Can come to find

That they are not alone

That there are others like them

Vessels for words that the conscious self too often cannot bear to acknowledge

Impregnated by some cosmic force

The words must be transcribed

We, the scribes

Of this 26 symbol orgy

I thought I was alone in this compulsion to memorialize it on the page

I now realize there are many, many others

Flickers across the globe

You, infected by this same beautiful virus

Together, we shine a light

Put words to forbidden tunes

Give contour to the darkest part of our souls

Hide them away no more

Bring them into the love light

Let us play dot-to-dot, together

Dot-to-Dot was originally published in the Cafe on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.