Held hostage

Help me please, I am being held hostage by my hormones. I am writing to you from inside the refrigerator. Shshsh...they are listening..

It has been ninety-two days since my captor robbed me of my thermal-control freedom.

His favourite weapon is to ignite a fire from within my body. He does it randomly, sneaking up on me without warning. Shopping in the supermarket, I am caught unawares. First there's the prickly skin sensation on my legs and then whoosh the heat rushes up my body to my face. Beads of sweat cover my brow and then I feel moist trickles down my torso. To the outside observer, I seem to have run a marathon while standing still in the cereal aisle.

The most frightening is the night time terror. Sometimes he wakes me five times at night, with his internal fire treatment. I throw off the bed clothes and lie naked, drenched and overheated. My husband lies beside me, curled in the winter doona, oblivious, snug and warm while I suffer the ignominy of summer from within.

The worst part is the silence. No ransom note, no demand just endless unpredictable and random torture.

I have been trying to guess what he wants. I beg him for an explanation, seek his forgiveness or at least some idea of what I need to do to be set free.

I try to explain, I like predictability. I am a control freak losing bodily control. Forty years of periods every 21 days was manageable but this no sleep, no brain function, endless distractibility and heat, heat, heat is so hard to get used to...I surrender..

So please, help me please..

Flame in Chinese Temple, Darwin October 2011