ME_Diary_#pwME

What can I say? Myalgic encephalomyelitis can be an organic pattern, That goes beyond me, tide, to which I am subject and which will eventually make me disappear into themselves.

There are between two and five days per month, in which I escape the tides. These days refer exclusively to the days 20 to 25 in my cycle of 28 Days, since 25 Years. Before and after I don't exist, visible. Not in the necessary visibility.

Why am I saying that? Not, because I drown in symptoms most of the time, rather, because it seems so incredible to me, that my female monthly cycle defines and determines my life so precisely. That I'm not alive, it is the chemical or hormonal processes, they live in me. But that I've had to do this for decades, as if this parallel life next to me didn't exist, to pretend, as if I were free and physically empty and endlessly expandable upwards like a machine.

With the chronification of ME, an organic pattern has evidently developed in me. A pattern, in which it lives so rigid and limited, like inside a steel helmet, in which my falling and rising take place, depending on the hormonal composition (which of course means a lot more, than just hormonal! If you e.g.. think about it, that some process within these chains is broken, because certain hormones, Neurotransmitter etc. missing resp. the HPA axis rotates in idle due to former over-sensitization, etc.. etc etc, the equilibrium can already collapse).

In an organic pattern handle (taken around the throat, from behind!), captured, punctual and accurate, like i was a watch.

The reason for this is ME, the cause, that this work of art could develop in organic super timing. The processes are thus interlinked with the hormonal control circuit, that I can really say and write: today, in 22 Days I can live again! For one, a second, einen halben dritten Tag!

And: Today in 26 Days I'm falling! Today in 30 Days I'll be back, where i am today; Underwater, burning due to inflammation during simultaneous bleeding.

My marrow has been torn out ever since 25 Years. These operations, that run in me and lead to it, that I'm a woman at all, biologically speaking, apparently demand immeasurable power from my body. How ridiculous. When I was thirty-five I got the idea, I can't live in this cycle wheel anymore, that my strength, end with this cycle to cycle, does not last until the end.

The transition from the damn premenstrual days to the triggering of the damn menstruation stimulates the inflammatory processes in me in a dangerous way. I fall deep in the day 2 and 3, I fall and fall deeper between day 4 and 8!!! It is, as if my whole body was washed out and changed in a shock process within this transition. As if a ticking, but living fire bomb (Tag 20 to 28) to an informal, translucent, gently bubbling deep sea medusa (Tag 3 to 19).

Example using the internal example: the blood separates from the lining of the uterus, do this again and again. Every time (so every hour), when blood loosens again, some hours, until immediately before, I am going through the most extreme post-neuroimmune exhaution states. The whole pathology of ME comes to a head with a single such burst of blood: Weakness to the point of paralysis, nausea, That makes me hell the thought of the tongue in my mouth, Flu symptoms, which increase with every movement, scalding the lower layers of the skin… a rampage of the immune system / or / and the inflammatory processes with a simultaneous drop to the hour zero of the physical, emotional and mental power balance.

I tell myself, bleed from my midst, for me it is like running a marathon for someone else 500 Kilometers. But of course I suspect, that there is only one “organic pattern” is, just my pattern, that my ME chose, to hit me, and that has resulted from the decades of chronic disease and disease-preserving unfavorable conditions. (and what other than disease-maintaining unfavorable condition is and was this damn cycle of miserable days of hypermenhorroe, with no artificial pills to break, their before- and their night?!) Still, stop bleeding won't be a solution for me, the dysregulations are chemically inscribed in this cellular way, that I will and will still be trapped in the cycle, even, when I approach premenopause.

If I'm not bleeding, then the premenstrual syndrome will scald me and I will burst like a ticking bomb and poison me inside; implodieren.

Days and their meanings: Tag 25 to 30: the mens does not come, it's all pent up, I scald, I'm a powder keg full of poisons! Full of wrong processes! It is better not to see me again on these days. Even if this condition is called hyperreactivity in relation to ME and atypical neuroleptics this excessive hypomanic reaction to the slightest stimuli, these adrenaline surges should slow down. Is it [called. I doubt that. How and where should a neuroleptic intervene in such a house of cards?

I'm just chemistry. Only. Summary of life: My luck fell with the hormones, it rose with the hormones. My relationships ended in day 27. On day 27 there was noise.

On day 5 I was then experienced like a suction cup, skinless and devoted, rolled over to the purring kitten with retracted claws, the deep-sea medusa, who wants to sail deeper sinking into the bloodless negative weakness, blissfully given. Weakness can release a blissful susceptibility to caresses, can be a frenzy.

Tag 7 to 12 were all building, the laborious rebuilding of hemoglobin and strength, from Stamina, Geist, Purification and detoxification etc.. dedicated. These days have always demanded all discipline from me, which I could muster out of the interlocking hypometabolism. They were gray, degree, degree: I, Sysiphosa, pried the stone.

Tag 15: not over the mountain yet, but the progesterone phase has started, yeah.

Tag 18: finally the decisive change from female weakness to the necessary one, I would say: male aggressive force! This power, of course, has nothing to do with masculinity, but with me as a woman, which sometimes releases an unexpectedly large amount of DHEA….

Long live the testosterone in me! This mis-released excess of DHEA, The testosterone precursor gave me the best and liveliest, the angryest Kraft texts, the most dynamic marches, helped the loudest monologues! One has to think about it, that my ME body, he wanted to survive, on all sorts of tricks, how he could still get strength had to fall back, even if it wasn't a real force, but only compensating, fatal control errors, which in turn led to further malfunctions. My organ systems are under attack.

At the moment my body is still a witch's soup. A devil's gruel! But there is still such a thing as a turning point: Tag 20, 21, 22, 23, 24:

During these days I am suddenly thrown into life in fragments and realize: I'm alone, there is nothing there, no structure, no social network, Nothing!!!! Nothing, that could now absorb my body with all its hypothetical power! Because in all the other days I will, of the 28 Days of mine 25 Years of living with ME- and did not live with menstruating, but was only part of it, placed in an autonomously functioning organic monster train!!!

I can't wait, that women-specific medicine could help me. I am a woman, which is completely determined by its biology and prevented from living. But I am the only female person with this problem.

That a woman can raise a person inside her body, for that she has to have one, at least physically, be quite an empty vessel.

(2.2.21)