The shoreline stares back at me—
Almost tasting it,
A distant, golden line lies ahead.
The tide is like a clenched fist,
Tightening around my ankles,
Dragging me down even further.
I tell myself I know this sea.
I have swum through it before,
Charted its depths,
I felt its pull, outlasted it.
But today, the water rises,
My chest feels the pressure.
Salt and silence fill my mouth,
Despite my kicks, the current grows stronger.
The waves swallow my screams.
Like a storm, PMDD surges—
No warning, no mercy.
My ribs tear,
Its voice floods my mind—
Why bother fighting it? Let go. Sink.
I claw at the water,
Not from strength,
But from fear—
This time, maybe I won’t make it.
Rage consumes me.
I rage that I can’t trust my own body,
That my mind betrays me,
Dragging me under,
While the world above remains calm.
Even as I sink, somewhere—
I feel it:
The part of me that will not drown.
She remembers the taste of sand,
The heat of sunlight was on her skin.
She will not let go.
Not now. Not ever.
The shore is still there,
Even if I can’t see it now.
I will rise to meet it.
My power is inevitable.
Sinking, But Rising is an emotionally charged exploration of the internal turmoil many women face, especially those experiencing PMDD, perimenopause, or the challenges of motherhood. The poem sheds light on the often misunderstood and invisible struggle of living with hormonal shifts that feel like a battle between mind and body, where women are unfairly labeled as "crazy" or "overreacting." It brings awareness to the lack of support, proper education, and understanding from society and medical professionals when it comes to women's reproductive health, especially during transitional years. The poem serves as a powerful reminder that while the tide of hormonal imbalance can feel overwhelming, women possess an undeniable strength and resilience, even when it seems as though everything is pulling them under. It emphasizes that women are not at fault for their bodies’ betrayals and that, despite the struggle, they will always rise.
