I don't feel so good.

On almost all fronts. I'm nauseated and crampy from the progesterone. I can't control my moods very much. I've found myself sticking my foot in my mouth more often than not. This morning, I feel I hurt the feelings of my dad's fiancee something fierce. And what I said was not meant as offensive. In my mind and in my heart, I really and truly meant it as a compliment. See, she's pretty rockin'. But I was working on about an hour and a half of hormonal manic sleep in which I cried myself to the slumber. I had gotten up early to go with my parents-in-law to the hospital. MIL was having back surgery. So, coupled with the stress of that, the hormonal crappy sleep, the fact that I have mouth diarrhea sometimes, it was not a good morning. I've apologized profusely, especially when I sit and think about what I said. My rational side just screams at me, "You are such a bitch! How could you say something like that to the nice woman who makes your daddy so damn happy?" My emotional/hormonal side just sits in the corner rocking back and forth and muttering to herself, "I'm sorry. It was a nice thing to say. I meant it nice. I meant it to mean she was really awesome." Then the rocking turns into wracking sobs.  And this dialogue goes back and forth in my brain so much that I've worried myself sick over it. 

Okay, so even at 27, I'm new to this weird crappy hormonal thing. Sorta. It's never constant, the effects. I haven't ovulated in 14 years. I've had 6 years of birth control induced periods and the wanky PMS symptoms those give. I've been diagnosed and treated for severe Pre-menstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I was told to quit taking the Prozac that helps that immensely. I haven't taken it in nearly 6 months. With my hormones being stuck in a semi-constant PMS state, I question the wisdom of the doctor on that decision. So, right now, I'm on my own in a weird hormonal wonderland of guilt, shame, misunderstandings and overall malfunction of, well, everything. In full-blown, actually-gonna-ovulate PMDD PMS. And I have final exams over the course of the next two days. The inability to focus on that is an incredible thorn in my side. I'm doing my best, but wish there were something that could help. I know, I know: "This, too, shall pass." Doesn't make it any easier.

The onset of increased hormone activity also increases my sensory perceptions. I hear everything. I smell everything. Couple that with the synesthetic goodness of tasting and seeing what I hear, well, I'm having a blast. A regular LSD-tripping blast. I've never done drugs of any kind, except the kind that are prescribed to me. A bad experience with hydrocodone right before my last surgery has left me scarred for narcotics for a long while. Regardless, the effects of the acid trip will often induce synesthesia in the individuals being affected. So, think of living with most forms of synesthesia as living with an acid trip. ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. Normally it's not so bad, and I actually just go with the flow of things as they pass in and out of my psyche. Not when my hormones are significantly and exponentially (redundancy for the win) increased. At this point it's a wonder I'm not committed temporarily.