Having just survived a very, very bad menstrual cycle, I need to decide on a course of treatment to prevent it from happening again.
- Take extra Prozac for the week leading up to my period. I did that once before, several years ago, and it seemed to help, if I recall. I typically take 200 mg a day but can go up to 300 mg for that one week. I doubt Dr. Phlegm would take issue, because I also take the extra amount during the difficult winter months.
- Take Seroquel as needed if/when my period gets difficult. Problem: more self-awareness and preventive thinking would be needed. Several times during the past week, it occurred to me to take extra for a good night’s sleep, since I was miserable (it’s allowed), but I never thought to take any during the daytime. Um, it really would’ve helped. I’m forehead-flicking myself right now.
- Try birth control. I’ve never taken birth control, and I worry that what’s left of my mostly destroyed sex drive would disappear forever if I were to go this route. Antidepressants are bad enough. Since it’s my dream to be loved by a man, I’m not sold on birth control as an option, but it still gave me hope when Ashley Leia suggested it, so there’s that!!
- Do nothing and hope for the best…?
I find option #2 to be the most appealing. It would just require me, though, to be on the ball. This last period started a week ago with godawful menstrual cramps, fatigue, feeling as if I’d been steamrollered, and headaches. I realize now that I should’ve seen it as a sign that I’d need some daytime Seroquel for the duration, but instead, I brushed it off as general PMS even though I don’t normally suffer before my period begins. I really should’ve seen the signs. The most difficult thing about picking option #2 will be forcing more mindfulness on my part and being hypervigilant for when Seroquel would help.
The other appeal of option #2 is that most often, my periods don’t wreak destruction. More often than not, I’m fine. The problem is, though, that suppose I choose option #2 and don’t have issues until the end of the year. I will have forgotten to be vigilant! If godawful PMS strikes again, I’ll just brush it off again. (I’m a slow, slow learner.)
I like option #1, but it seems like overkill, considering that I have bad periods roughly twice a year. Why go to all that trouble when the odds of needing it are roughly one in six?
If I opt for option #2, you all have my total permission to comment in the future and say, “Take some Seroquel, Meg! It could help you today.” It’s not the sort of thing that would offend me. Rather, knowing me, it would send me into deep thought, and then I’d probably go take some.
It’s just that life was going so swimmingly that I didn’t see the hormones coming. It takes me a while to realize that I’m feeling off-kilter, and by the time I realize it, the week of my period is pretty much over, leaving a hellish scene of destruction and interpersonal disaster in its wake.
If I had been prepared for such a horrible menstrual period, I could’ve protected myself better, primarily by taking daytime Seroquel. My fear, whenever I go off the rails like this, is that I’ll lose my relationships. Nothing matters to me more than relationships, as I’m sure you all know. Fortunately, every relationship built on solid ground is still standing. God bless for that!
I called Dr. Phlegm’s office today, and his answering machine pretty much said he’s out due to the coronavirus. I’ve been saving money on psychiatry bills, so that’s the silver lining. He is on-call for emergencies, so I can reach him if I really need to.
I think my body fell apart because of my treadmill use. I’m not accustomed to actual exercise–you know, the kind that makes you all sweaty and that challenges your cardiovascular system. I’m hopeful that I can keep exercising without anymore disastrous periods, on the hope that my body will adjust.
In incredibly good news, the ice skating rink isn’t mad at me. I contacted them and said that, due to my personal regrets, I’d tried as hard as I could to get FB to take down their old page (this is true–I sure the heck did), but that I was unsuccessful (also true–apparently, emailing Mark Zuckerberg isn’t worth writing home about). They actually appreciated my efforts! Holy flip. Such a nice company. Wow.
I’m still trying to find an EMDR therapist, which my dad has agreed to pay for. I’m also going to read a book about false memories. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I spoke to my dad again today, and he swore up and down that he has no recollection of having abused me thusly.
“I have a memory of every awful thing I’ve ever done,” he said. “I cheated on a test. I hit my older sister on the head with a brick when I was four. I still hate myself for it. But I have no memory of what you’re saying, and I can’t imagine I would’ve done something so horrible; and if I did do it, why don’t I remember it along with all the other bad things I’ve done?”
I don’t think he’s lying. But one of the following must be true:
- He’s guilty, and he knows it, and is lying outright;
- He’s innocent, and my memory is false or vastly incorrect or skewed, etc., etc.
- He’s guilty, but he’s blocked it out and genuinely believes in his own innocence. He seems stumped by that possibility.
I’m so relieved that my period appears to be over now. Heaven above! At least I should have several weeks of peace before I have to deal with it again. Although this is why I never visit Sonya in Prague during my period. I sort of love her too much to subject her to this level of insanity. And it’s looking like I can’t go this year. The Czech Republic is still banning American tourists. Sigh.