The Po Show

Freaking Hormones

I'm not liking this perimenopause deal one little bit. The thought that this is going to be my state of being for the next 10 years or so is pretty depressing.

I've never been comfortable with the view of humans as these bags of hormones and neurotransmitters, but I swear that's how it feels sometimes. I'd never had PMS till I was in infertility treatment, and it was a real eye-opener. Feeling like I was going to rip the arm off the next person who talked to me, then beat him to death with it, made me go, "Oh wow, so THIS is what everyone has been talking about all this time!"

I had some pregnancy hormonal surges, but nothing out of the ordinary. But it's been the progressively worsening PMS I've had the last couple of years (how unfair is it to hit perimenopause at 38, knowing that I probably wasn't actually, based on when my mother and sisters went through it, going to complete menopause till I was over 50?) that has really rocked my boat. There are few things more unsettling than being unreasonably upset, and KNOWING full well that it is unreasonable, and not being able to do anything about it.

I cried, literally wept, during a documentary about John Denver on PBS last night. It wasn't even because of his tragic death or anything. It was listening to the lyrics to "Rocky Mountain High." Sheesh. Then I cried harder because I was crying about the lyrics to "Rocky Mountain High" and I KNEW how freaking ridiculous that was, but I couldn't help it. I was caught in this absurd loop of tears and self-loathing.

It's been a bit better since I started taking a bunch of supplements everyday, with extra 5-HTP the week before my period is due. Prior to starting the supplements, I cried on and off for three days about the scene in the movie "Crash" where the little girl jumps into her father's arms and gets shot. I was a mess for a full 2 weeks before my period every month. There being only about 4 weeks in a month, this was a lot of time to be messed up. Now I'm down to only one or two really bad days, though I'm moderately on edge for a week. I got tears in my eyes on Sunday when we happened upon the Walk for Autism in Battery Park. I looked at all the people there in their shirts dedicated to the autistic children they love, and I had my own Aspie there (in the middle of a major anger episode), and I was spun by a wave of emotions.

For all our progress, for all our achievements as a species, why can't we get a better grip on this crap? I'm already past tired of it, and there's a long road ahead.