In my other posts, I have mentioned feeling slightly edgy, somewhat ill-tempered, there’s no way to be poetic about it, I have been suffering in silence about PMDD for the past two years.

Nearly to the point of madness, I thought it wise to seek treatment. After all this is the 21st century. I thought my suffering was needless. How wrong I was.

As it turns out there has been little research about women’s hormonal imbalances. If I had known the doctor would threaten to 51/50 me, I would have not dressed so beautifully on Monday. I would have snarled and cried and gnashed my teeth as to earn the right to lose all my rights and be locked up. I ask you! Heavy bleeding, migraines, depression, irritability to the point of rage (notice I have not mentioned harming myself or someone else) bloating, and other horrendous symptoms that men would gladly hurl themselves off very tall buildings in order to escape. Crazy? You idiot!

I took a deep breath in and shook my head in a rather standard way as to say, “Oh Dear doctor, I have met you many a time in many different guises and simply cannot be bothered with your misogynistic diagnosis that I am simply another crazy chick that needs Zoloft.

Since PMDD has been recorded in history books as far back as Hippocrates, one would think that I might garner some relief. But no, I suffer in silence.

Won’t you all come forward ladies? So that we do not destroy are children and make our men leave. Am I all alone? Is there no-one else.

I bought a lovely perfume that day. Fortunately, I was able to fight the stick without assistance from a “Doctor”. It was an allergic reaction to soap. Now I smell beautiful again. Help me, please.