Taken By Surprise...

This has been an odd month for me. After a couple of years of only experiencing PMDD symptoms every few months--due to the onset of menopause--for the past two cycles I’ve been back to my regular clockwork schedule of symptoms and a refresher course of how miserable PMDD can be.

But now, I also know how to manage and minimize it. I now know I am not my PMDD, and my PMDD is not me. After nearly forty years of cycling through it, being buffeted by first regular, then random storms of PMDD, I have finally learned to separate myself from my PMDD.

To do that, however, takes a great deal of self-attention and self-awareness. You have to listen to everything your body tells you. The body never lies.

But a PMDD body does lie. Imagine that. Your own body lies to you.

No wonder you feel like you’re going crazy sometimes.

I am a very much a positive thinker. Calm, creative, goal-oriented, and optimistic. Generally I sail through my days without a problem. I don’t sweat the small stuff, and half the time don’t even sweat the big stuff. Life has a way of working out for me, and for that, I am grateful. The more it happens, the more I learn to trust—to trust in myself and my higher power—that all choices made from that quiet place within me can be trusted and will lead me to good and positive outcomes.

So imagine my surprise last week, when a day I had willingly chosen to give over to helping a loved one get the medical help he needed, for me turned into an endless loop of mental frustration. What is this? I kept asking myself. This day is no surprise, and I chose to spend it this way, and yet….

And yet I can’t seem to stop the thoughts of anger, resentment, and frustration from welling up inside of me.

I did not let them out. I knew well enough that the person I was spending the day with was not the problem. But Lord, how I wanted to. Just wanted to let loose with every negative thought on my mind. We even joked about it.

Did you catch that? I was able to joke about my feelings in the midst of a PMDD episode.

And I didn’t even know I was having one. I just knew something was “off.”

It wasn’t until the following afternoon that I began to suspect it was PMDD. Thursday morning I procrastinated until it was too late to leave for my Qigong class, which I absolutely love. There’s no reason for me to miss the class, as everyone there knows about my PMDD and accepts me as I am. They welcome my arrival no matter what my mood, which I often announce upon coming in the door.

“Brain’s not working right today,” I will say, and everyone will know I’m a little off my stride.

So I skipped class—all the while asking myself, “Why would you skip something that brings such good things into your life?”

Remember, PMDD doesn’t make sense. It just is.

That afternoon, I found myself unable to focus on what I needed to be doing. My handwriting was off, and I kept getting distracted by the latest shiny thing—a new email, a new link to explore, a phone call to answer, a note to write, a snack to make.

Speaking of snacks, suddenly, for the first time in weeks, I wanted chocolate.

Should have been another clue, but I wasn’t thinking PMDD yet.

Not until the next morning, Friday morning, when I literally did not want to wake up. I swear to you, it felt exactly like when I woke up to a carbon monoxide leak in my house last November. Debilitating, bone deep lack of motivation and fatigue. All I wanted to do was sleep.

The phone rang and I dragged myself out of bed. An hour and a half later, I’m still yawning, yawning, yawning. It took extreme effort to keep my eyes open. Coffee didn’t help. At all. I don’t normally drink coffee, so if I do have a cup, the effect is immediate.

Not today. Not a blip of relief. I felt like I had an iron band around my head, my tongue was made of cotton and was also thick and swollen (which is one of my PMDD symptoms—allergy aggravation), I couldn’t get enough water to drink, and I was ravenous both before breakfast and less than an hour after.

I finally realized I wasn’t truly hungry…I just wanted to eat. Believe it or not, there is a difference. My stomach was full. But my brain was sending distress messages. What those messages were, I have no clue, because there was nothing distressing that I know of going on in my life—you know, like the kind of situation that spurs emotional eating…

I just know the signals my brain was sending were manifesting as a nearly overwhelming desire to eat.

It was hard, but I didn’t succumb. My food charting (another experiment I hope to share the details of some day) told me I had already eaten as much as, if not a little more than, I had on any other day. So this was not true hunger. This was my PMDD talking, not me. I was not hungry. The chart clearly showed that on any other day, I wouldn’t have been the least bit hungry…and believe me, I am not one to deprive myself of basic nutrition, because I learned long ago that it will only make my PMDD worse.

So I compromised with my PMDD, and spent the day sipping my favorite chocolate drink, because suddenly all I wanted was chocolate.

I did, however, go to bed really early that evening, in deference to my fatigue. Added to that was now a strange aching in my legs, all the way down into my arches.

What had happened? Had I pulled/strained a muscle somewhere? Somehow? How could I, when I’d skipped class on Thursday? It didn’t make sense.

I woke up 12 hours later, still sleepy. Still ravenous. Still wanting chocolate. Still aching.

Okay…by now I am beginning to realize what is happening here. It must be my PMDD. By noon it was confirmed. I started spotting.

Suddenly everything that happened the previous three days made complete sense. The strange and unreasonable irritability on Wednesday, the clumsiness, disorientation, and inability to stay focused on Thursday, the lack of motivation, intense lethargy, fatigue, and ravenous appetite on Friday. The chocolate craving, the sensation of an iron band tightening around my head, the urge to weep, the dull ache in my legs.

I continued to eat normally, despite the ravenous hunger, sip my favorite chocolate drink, and headed off to the gym to walk around the track, even knowing it was the last thing I wanted to do. But exercise had helped before, and I wanted to experiment, wanted to see if there was actually something I could DO to make it better.

The first twenty minutes I felt like I wanted to vomit. No lie. Around the half hour mark, I started to feel a little better. By the 45 minute mark I was heading back toward an even keel. Came home, made a healthy, carb-laden supper, then went to church.

Things weren’t completely right, however, until I went out for a salty bowl of chicken noodle soup afterward.

Go figure. But for some reason, after the soup, I came home full of more energy than I’d had in three days. I was psyched, ready to take on the world.

Instead I rested and read and had a cup of tea. The storm wasn’t over yet; that was just the eye of it. Been here, done this enough times to know this thing comes in waves.

Sunday morning I was dozing again when the phone rang and woke me up. I didn’t have nearly as tough a time waking up as I had on Friday morning. Huge difference between then and now.

Why? The menstrual blood was flowing.

And because of that, I made it to my next Qigong class and the grocery store and was able to focus on a couple of creative projects I needed to complete.

The first wave of the storm had hit, and I weathered it. Mostly by repeating this is not me, this is my PMDD. I am not angry, resentful, mad—that’s my PMDD talking. I am not hungry, that’s my PMDD talking. I have no reason to cry—that’s my PMDD talking.

Unfortunately, there was not much I could do about the fatigue. But getting out for a walk definitely helped with that.

The good news is (except for one cup of coffee) I managed to avoid the quick-fix stimulants that so many of us use to get past our fatigue, stimulants that only make our PMDD hit back even harder. Tobacco, alcohol, caffeine, sugar, energy drinks.

You, too, can weather the storm, whether yours comes in waves, or all at once. It just takes an enormous amount of effort to do so. Not everyone has the time or energy or circumstances to be able to do it. I understand that. I accept that. You need to accept that too, and simply start wherever you are right now.

Start with what you have, start with whatever symptoms present themselves. Try to sort them out like tangled threads. This part is me, this part is my PMDD. I am not my PMDD. I am better than my PMDD. I am stronger than my PMDD. I will not allow my PMDD to define me.

And I will not allow anyone else to define me by it, either.

Because they have never slogged through the storm in my shoes.

Until you know how it feels to have a brain and body that sends basic biological signals contrary to all conventional wisdom and common sense, you will never understand.

To those who do, you deserve to be congratulated and applauded--not dismissed, discounted, and ridiculed.

We are the strong ones, we are the survivors, and we are not our PMDD.