Hello...have we met?

I have caught wind from some of my blog followers that some of my posts have been causing concern and are downright depressing. And, by now, I think you have discovered that I live a mostly transparent life (there are a few things I choose to keep private). I say what's on my mind in the most passive-aggressive way possible--through writing. I hope that you can appreciate my candid manner and take it for what it is; for I consider you my friends.

Case in point:

I've been recently diagnosed with an interesting disorder called premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD)--it's a super-sized version of PMS. So if you've read some of my posts and / or encountered me in the past year and walked away thinking, "damn, that woman must be having PMS", you're almost right. I started to take note of a mood cycle, along with other symptoms, that evolved throughout the month every month for about a year. Don't worry, I am not going to go on a gynecological journey with you--that is one line I will not pass. First I thought my issues were dealing with my significant weight loss, work uncertainty, increased involvement at church or my daughter starting school. But it was bigger than that. I finally accepted I needed help when I couldn't even write my first and last name on a work form without practically hyper-ventilating.

So I willed myself to go to the doctor on my birthday of all days. My doctor is a sweet thing...fresh out of her residency and eager to just listen. I laid out my symptoms and she diagnosed me as having PMDD. I have had the distinct pleasure of experiencing most of the symptoms on the list:

• Mood swings
• Depressed mood or feelings of hopelessness
• Marked anger, increased interpersonal conflicts
• Tension and anxiety
• Irritability
• Decreased interest in usual activities
• Difficulty concentrating
• Fatigue
• Change in appetite
• Feeling out of control or overwhelmed
• Sleep problems
• Physical problems, such as bloating

I haven't had issues with marked anger, change in appetite or sleep problems. However, I had so much difficulty concentrating that I thought I was losing my hearing. I did take a audiology appointment and passed with flying colors.

One of the treatments for PMDD is to prescribe an anti-depressant. Wow. She passed me the written prescription and told me to fill it when the cyclical symptoms show up. It suddenly became surreal to me for a moment--I'm depressed. We talked some more and I inquired about seeing a counselor, which she gladly gave me a referral.

When I told my mom of my new diagnosis, I think I made her uncomfortable. Her general response was, "Well, you should continue to exercise. I understand exercise can help you feel better."

When I told my husband and asked him not to tell anyone in his family, he obliged me. I told a couple of close friends because they had noticed something wasn't quite right about me and expressed concern.

I didn't want to tell any more people than necessary at the time because I was embarrassed.

I was embarrassed because my life is quite simple and burden free. I think of my friends who moved cross-country, ended up living with family and can't sell their house in this economy. I think of my aunt who has pancreatic cancer. I think of my friend who hates her job, works crazy hours, isn't happy with where she is at this point in her life. I think of my other friend who went through hell and back trying to conceive a child on her own. I think of family and friends who lost pregnancies, lost jobs or whatever curveball life pitched them.

Those are real problems.

For me to be unable to handle life in general was very difficult to accept.

While I was not pleased with the notion of being on medication, I could only hang on for two weeks before the wave of symptoms came and hit me hard. I had that prescription filled in mid-November.

I did have one therapy appointment. In preparation for the appointment, I had to complete a form noting my mental health history. As I was checking the boxes, Kyle apparently did a double take. He said, "for a second there, I thought you had checked that you have had thought about suicide!" Thankfully, I am not and have not gone that far into a hole.

The mental health therapy appointment didn't go particularly well. I have to admit, I didn't know what to expect, but from my perspective during the appointment, the therapist seem very disinterested in my issues. At the end, she gave me her card while telling me that I seemed to be an intelligent person who is in general control of things and that I didn't need therapy... I interpreted that as: "Get your shit together and buck up." Needless to say, I left a bit disappointed.

I continue to take my medication and I feel much better. For the most part, I feel back to the old me. I chose to be on medication to ensure that I can function normally in my relationships with others--family, friends, co-workers--because they are so valuable to me and my problems were causing issues with most of my relationships and job performance. My intention is to eventually get off medication, but I am okay with the fact that I need it for now. I still have some shit to get together, but at least I'm more rational about things and can function day-to-day.

So there.