I can't stop eating. I dread getting out of bed until I remember something yummy in the kitchen. Last week we'd been busy, came to the evening and realized we hadn't eaten much all day. So I picked out a recipe and John threw it together. Mmmmm. Yummy. John had seconds. I had thirds...and fourths...The next day I ate the leftovers, and I've been eating pretty much incessantly since then. I was a lithe 112 last week. I'm feeling MUCH bigger now. John even started to make a comment yesterday ..."Your'e looking a little..." Well, "little" wasn't the word he was going for. Bloated? Fat? Chunky? Engorged? Even though he didn't finish his sentence, I understood what he was going for. I wasn't insulted by it. I'm rarely insulted by words of honesty. I really, honestly can't turn off my hunger. Even when I'm totally full, food still appeals to me. STRONGLY. IRRESISTABLY. I know this will stop soon. It's probably just heralding my up-coming period...two weeks in advance. It's always something: moodiness, euphoria, aching body, uncontainable energy...only extremes will do.
So my ever-changing moods, tendencies, freakish urges & drives...whatever you want to call it all...what shall I attribute it to? Going the catch-all medical route, let's say it's a seratonin imbalance. I've been on SSRI's before...but I felt just as whacked out, and intermittently normal as I do without the medications. Notwithstanding the lack of success I've had with SSRI treatments, I have one teesy question. What the hell is Seratonin anyway? A hormone. I want to see it. I want to hold it in my hand and yell at it. Smack it around for a second, and knock some sense into it. "Why aren't you doing your job?" Everyone else around me enjoys living normal lives, without silently wondering when their next crazy spell will be. Or if they'll be able to make it through one normal conversation without saying something weird or making a funny face.
