Today we have a guest post from a woman who has taken what I think is the very healthy step of naming her PMDD. Naming your PMDD helps to separate you from your disorder. You are not your PMDD and that is what we all need to remember when PMDD strikes. We are more than our PMDD, and better than our PMDD.
I call her Agatha.
Some
of you may have met her unknowingly. Her presence is noticed only by my
few nearest and dearest...and even most of them don’t understand her.
I’ve decided to talk about Agatha because I spend so much time as/with
her, I am tired of trying to explain myself, or feel guilty, or
desperately sad that things annoy me when they shouldn’t even make a
shadow.
Agatha
is my PMDD...or who I am for up to two weeks out of the month.
Yes...EVERY month. I have PMDD...Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder. Have you heard of PMT (or PMS if you’re American)? Well, PMDD also has to do with the
menstrual cycle, but is a million time worse. Maybe a billion...at least. After I have ovulated and the hormone levels
change, so do I. I become someone that has taken me years to recognise,
and more to understand. I describe it as having the ‘Dementor’s Kiss’;
Harry Potter fans will of course understand the reference. For the rest
of you, that is when all of the happiness you have ever felt,
experienced, or hoped for, is sucked out of your soul, leaving you with
no choice except to dwell on every bad thing that has ever happened to
you...in the deepest pit of despair.
I
now understand it has got worse the older I get, because I have more
experiences. So there’s more happy to be sucked away, and more pain to
be left with. PMDD doesn’t just mess with your mind and soul, it likes
to play with your body too. Any pre-existing conditions are highlighted
and heightened...luckily for me, I have a back condition, so usually I
am in considerable extra pain in the lead up to the bleed. I also get a
barely-controllable eczema outbreak, and permanent, draining headaches.
Then there’s being so tired, that I’m not sure if I’ve been to sleep.
And I’m pretty positive that the world tricks me by deciding to speak a
different language to me...because I haven’t got a clue how to
distinguish between words, let alone decipher what they are saying. It’s
all very confusing, and delays cause you to feel very silly; therefore,
it’s better not to talk to anyone.
Ah...but
wait! Why would anyone want to talk to you anyway? You are nothing, and
nobody. Your past experiences have shown you that, right? There’s no
hope for you, so stay put and don’t move, because nobody wants you. Your
children can’t stand you, you’re so irritable, and their noise hurts
your oversensitive ears. They also want you to come out of your dark,
safe hole - they want food, they want to talk to you, but they are far
too loud for you, and they would be better off without you...right?
You’re lucky your back is screwed, and your muscles are aching in every
area, because then you can’t drag your unwanted, pathetic self into the
road for some juggernaut to put the world out of its misery, fed up of
having to have your unworthy ass live in it....no one could possibly
want you around, and you should probably top yourself to do them a
favour. Everyone you know would have a greater life without you in it.
The
disillusionment of the world eats you up, the unfairness of “the
system” has you physically aching for the world to end. You dislike your
family, you don’t want to talk to your friends...and there is nothing
but pain and despair.
And
then one day, I wake up and something feels different. I have a harsh
stomach cramp, but that’s nothing compared to the aches and pains of the
previous week. I smile at my text messages, and I kiss my husband - it
feels nice. Everything feels nice, and everything looks nice. I go to
wake my children up with the biggest hugs and talk about upcoming plans
for fun things. Oh wow, I also need sex. Like NOW. I want sex ALL the
time (see, there is an up side to imbalanced hormones!) my mind and body
are depraved instead of in pain. It feels good. And I wake up the next
day feeling the same...and so on. I have a wonderful two weeks of coping
with everything and having big smiles, and then something happens that
will either irritate the crap out of me, or a loud noise hurts my ears,
or I wake up and can’t move because of back pain...so I check the
calendar - shit, it’s Agatha time.
I
gave the person I become a name, so I can fight myself, tell myself
‘it’s just Agatha, she’ll go soon, just hold on’. This is my most recent
tool for the battle - after exhausting diets, exercise, herbal
treatments, vitamins, finally giving in to my Doctor and attempting
anti-depressants. Nothing works. So it’s me against her.
She’s
getting stronger, and I can feel her on her way. I’m not ready, I’m
still not over last month’s visit. I want to keep smiling...but no, time
to batten down the hatches, because she will be here by the weekend; I
will be forced to face every demon I have ever encountered, and I’m
scared.
Can’t
give up though, I have to keep fighting. I can now differentiate
between who I am, and what is caused by her. It’s me against her....
.....c’mon then bitch.
Posts
Thank you for sharing this. I've also named my pmdd, Helga. My husband doesn't understand the benefit of naming her but I'm hoping it will help me with the monthly battle.
ReplyDeleteI feel your pain...pmdd sucks. would love to kill it.
ReplyDeleteNow I'm starting to think of a name. I guess it should be something ghastly, because that's just how "she" is. I can really relate with all the negative stuff to hit you from the past. I feel like how am I supposed to move forward if everything from the past keeps rearing it's ugly head every single month! Yes I already know I made terrible decisions while being "her" and I try every chance to be better. Maybe this is why one therapist thought I was bipolar. It almost seems like so because you are living two separate live. Problem with that is ...well...there are so many things wrong with that. There is a disconnect from loved ones, no one understand why I can't keep a job. Me I can, but my PMDD chick just can't. When she gets in the driver's seat she just quits everything that I've been working on. She sits at my computer and pressed delete to everything. Then I'm left feeling embarrassed and having to apologize. I even think that she decided to get married, had an affair, also aborted a child and screamed at everyone. I came back to and was devastated. Now I must live this life. Half of it seems like a dream since a lot of it seemed like choices I didn't make. I know this is a lot, but I probably need to take whatever med I need to because the more I can lessen her strength the better.
ReplyDeleteWow thank for th it s post. I'm not alone after all. Omg! You described me to the T. At least you have a husband though. The sex part is rough. I'm divorced. I've accomplished so much glory to God, but I still feel so unfulfilled and alone. I hate this disease. I hate Agatha. She's such a fucking bitch.
ReplyDeleteI've been calling it "IT". IT awakes in my brain and body. IT (tries to) control my thoughts and perceptions - everyone becomes a threat to IT. IT hurts me - migraines, leg pain, all over body and mind pain. IT refuses to give me enough oxygen, making me sooooooo tired and yawny, lightheaded, brain foggy, can't make the simplest choice like tea or coffee, can't find my words. IT paralizes me - can't move, like lead in my veins. IT is a free for all between neurotransmitters and receptors. Electric brain storm. IT has fun opening and closing the wrong receptors to the wrong transmitters. Or plainly shutting them down, leaving me to survive on animal instinct. Fight or flight. IT goes into a histamine attack - sneeze, freeze, fever. Then IT falls into my uterus where IT feels like an alien screaming and fighting destruction and expulsion. Thank God IT is expelled with the pain. Bloody alien out you go! IT is finally gone. Another IT wants to reproduce, more leg pain and fatigue. Two IT's per month. Exhausting. In between, ME catching up on work and house chores, family and friendships, good food, sleep, exercice habits. Reimerging. Realizing the damage IT left behind if IT won the battle that month. A lost job, friend boyfriend, parent... 35 years of this roller-coaster. Will IT really go away with menopause?
ReplyDelete