Unmotivated

It seems that I got my Seroquel refilled back on the 19th of July. I started my period the next day, which means that today is the day I should start my next period. This isn't much of a surprise to me as today is a work day... and I haven't done any work. I say not "much of a surprise" because the past few weeks have passed so quickly. Time, in fact, passes more quickly now than I would ever have imagined when I was younger and the future seemed an eternity away.

I slept for a couple of hours today. While I slept I dreamed that David and I were living in a rambling, ramshackle place out in the country. People visited us all the time, as if we were having a perpetual party. Finally, they left and we were alone. I asked David some question and followed it up by telling him that I was incredibly unhappy. He asked me if I meant it and I repeated myself in a way that indicated I did. And then I went off to find some place on the property where I could be alone, although I thought of him the whole time.

These days - these months, these years - at this time in my life my PMS seems as bad as it's ever been. In titling this entry "Unmotivated" I'm referring to what happens to me on the downside of my cycle - the last 2 weeks or so before I start a period. I feel so unmotivated about work and about myself. Not uninterested, just unmotivated. I look at my computer screen and everything seems to require more brain power than I'm willing to apply to it. I feel an irresistable pull towards simply doing nothing. More and more often, nothing is exactly what I do. Sometimes my anxieties pile up around me during this phase of my cycle and by the day my period is due to start I am certain that I am doing the world, and especially my family, a great disservice by attempting to handle my life without a team of professionals and a medicine cabinet of pills to prop me up.

But it's just my hormones.

Isn't it funny that we women say, "It's just my hormones"? Just something that disrupts our lives, that drags us down, month after month and year after year. As if it were unimportant. I suppose we know that anything that is certain to be as impermanent as PMS is comparitavely unimportant if we also believe that we do very well the rest of the month. And I think I do, actually.

I'm writing this today because last month I tried very hard to put some kind of marker in my mind that I wouldn't forget; something to pop up on this very day and say, "It's just your hormones. Remember last month."

I think it's at least helping to keep my anxieties at bay.