Intrusive Thoughts and the Power of the Pen

Journaling Through PMDD, Fear, and the Thoughts That Don’t Belong to Me

Intrusive thoughts are like the pop-up ads of your brain. Nobody asked for them, they show up at the worst possible times, and they usually offer something disturbing, unhelpful, or downright ridiculous. During PMDD flares, they don’t just show up — they kick the door in, rearrange your furniture, and tell you you’re a failure because you forgot to reply to a text from 2007.

For me, these thoughts weren’t just annoying. They were scary. Violent. Guilt-ridden. Catastrophic. And worst of all, they felt real. PMDD has a cruel way of blurring the line between temporary hormone-driven distortion and your core identity.

So what did I do?

I gave them a page — but not a permanent home.

Journaling as a Mental Exorcism

I started writing them down. Not to honor them, but to drag them out of the shadows. Journaling let me examine those thoughts from a safer distance. It wasn’t about logic or grammar. It was a brain dump. A purge. A protest. A place where I could say: This is what I’m thinking. But it’s not who I am.

Sometimes I’d go back and read them again after the fog lifted. More often, I’d delete them like digital demons. Not out of shame, but out of choice. I refused to give them rent-free space in my mental real estate.

It was my way of saying: Thanks for the trauma dump, hormone hellscape. Now Get Out!

Why It Worked

Journaling created separation. It helped me see the thought as a thought, not a truth.

It gave me a ritual. Write. Breathe. Delete. Repeat. It was symbolic. I’m in charge.

It kept me safe. In the worst spirals, writing was the difference between drowning and floating. Not thriving — but surviving. 

A Note to Anyone Who Feels This

If you’ve ever had thoughts that scared you, disgusted you, or made you question your sanity, you’re not broken, you’re human. If you’re cycling through PMDD, those thoughts are not your truth. They are hormonal intrusions. Glitchy signals. Not a reflection of your heart.

Write them down if it helps. Delete them when they lose their grip. Burn them if you’re dramatic like me. Whatever you do, don’t let them convince you that you’re alone.

You’re not.