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~Seek first to understand, then be understood~
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If you're looking for information on a particular topic, type that word in the search box below. If I have written about that subject, a list of posts will appear. If no posts come up, I haven't written about it...yet. Emails, and questions in the comments section for possible posts, are welcome.
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I have a "friend" who shows up once a month. She turns my world upside down, over and over again.
I am a good person, caring and sweet, but when she comes to visit, I could rip off your head.
She takes no prisoners, foul words she does spout, I try to keep the words in, she lets them come out.
People don't understand me, or what this is about, to have this creature inside my head.
I despise who I am, half of the time, I feel sorry for my daughter, family and friends.
There's no way to describe it, for those who don't know, it's a living nightmare, she really needs to go.
~Neysia Manor, Rest in Peace
Showing posts with label irritability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label irritability. Show all posts

Friday, March 29, 2019

Shine a Light on PMDD - April is PMDD Awareness Month

BOSTON, MA, March 29, 2019 -- A global awareness campaign will kick off this April to help “Shine a Light on PMDD” on a little known, debilitating and life-threatening condition that takes an average of 12 years to be correctly diagnosed. 
Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) is a cyclical, hormone-based mood disorder which impacts approximately 1 in 20 women and individuals assigned female at birth (AFAB) of reproductive age - a staggering 60 million worldwide. With symptoms including severe depression, overwhelm, and anxiety appearing in the two weeks before menses, PMDD takes a toll on sufferers’ ability to work and maintain relationships with partners and family. In the 2018 Global Survey of Premenstrual Disorders, out of 1,425 patients with prospectively-confirmed PMDD: 
● 16.8% reported having lost a job due to PMDD 
● 56.7% reported having lost an intimate partner relationship due to PMDD 
● 98% and 97% feel PMDD puts a significant strain on their intimate partner relationship and family relationships, respectively 
● 42.7% reported problems with parenting due to PMDD, with 10.5% feeling completely unable to parent during PMDD 
The relentless emotional and (for some) physical pain also drastically increases the risk of suicidal behaviors. In the same survey, 30% of patients with PMDD reported that they had attempted suicide to escape their symptoms. Sadly, this number does not include those with PMDD who have died by suicide, which suggests that 30% is a low estimate for the rate of suicidal behaviors in PMDD. Appropriate identification and treatment of PMDD are therefore important not only for reducing suffering but also for saving lives. 
The same survey also showed it takes an average of twelve years and six healthcare providers to receive an accurate diagnosis of PMDD. After years of suffering, individuals with PMDD describe learning about the disorder as a ‘lightbulb moment’. 
“PMDD has been invisible for far too long,” according to Amanda LaFleur, Co-Founder & Executive Director, International Association for Premenstrual Disorders (IAPMD), the global leader of PMDD awareness and education. “It’s underdiagnosed, misdiagnosed and, at worst, the lack of understanding leads to harmful ridicule and shaming of suffers. During PMDD Awareness Month we need to create millions of life-changing lightbulb moments across the globe so people can get the support and treatment they need!” 
This year, IAPMD is again collaborating with a coalition of organizations, including U.S.-based Me v PMDD and U.K.-based Vicious Cycle: Making PMDD Visible, to ‘Shine a Light on PMDD.’ Resources to support awareness-building are available on pmddawarenessmonth.org. Website visitors can access the PMDD Awareness Month Toolkit, find facts and figures about PMDD, create a fundraiser, and share their story.
Individuals with PMDD are encouraged to add their voice to the women's reproductive and mental health movement and receive timely updates on work underway to inspire hope and end suffering in those with premenstrual disorders. 
“This is a galvanizing movement in women’s health,” according to Sandi MacDonald, IAPMD Board President. “PMDD is a perfect storm where #MeToo and #TimesUp, meets mental health awareness, meets suicide prevention. This campaign will be that ‘eureka!’ or ‘light bulb’ moment of insight, and then sufferers and activists around the world are empowered to raise awareness of PMDD and increase access to effective treatment options.” 
While PMDD is directly connected to the menstrual cycle, it is not a hormone imbalance but rather a severe neurobiological reaction to the natural rise and fall of estrogen and progesterone. Symptoms occur the week or two before menstruation and go away a few days after bleeding begins. There is no blood or saliva test to diagnose PMDD, but these tests can rule out other underlying disorders. Diagnosis is done by tracking symptoms for at least two menstrual cycles. As noted above, women and AFAB individuals with PMDD are at an increased risk for suicidal behavior. Although PMDD has been included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) and International Classification of Diseases (ICD) for years, it continues to be disregarded or misunderstood by doctors and the general public.
# # # 
Organizational Contacts: 
Amanda LaFleur
Co-Founder & Executive Director, IAPMD 
1-800-609-PMDD (7633) 

Laura Murphy
Project Co-Founder/Director, Vicious Cycle
Twitter: @viciouscyclepmd 
+44 7739 342590 

Sheila H. Buchert Co-Founder & COO, Me v PMDD, Inc. 
727-421-1489   

Saturday, April 14, 2018

The Voices of PMDD: Sharing our Struggles

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.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

May is Mental Health Month - A Primer on PMDD

The following guest post was written by the blogger Cheekyminx. With her permission, several of her posts about PMDD are being featured on this blog. To find out more about her work as a PMDD Advocate, please visit her Facebook page, PMDD Life Support.
Many women the world over experience the usual discomforts associated with the premenstrual cycle. PMS is a well-known condition that often includes irritability, bloating, and physical pain. But if you feel like PMS takes you out of commission every month, there may be more to it for you. Could you be one of the growing numbers of women who realize they are suffering from Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, or PMDD? What many women, and indeed many doctors, do not know is that in 2013, PMDD was officially recognized as a mood disorder (this classification will have to do for now) experienced by about 10% of all women who menstruate.
Now word is getting out. So how do women who have PMDD discover they have it? PMDD is caused by a sensitivity to normal hormone fluctuations rather than a hormonal imbalance, and getting tested for hormone levels usually reveals nothing. Many women discover it when they are at their wit’s end, having tried birth control, antidepressants, and other treatments to target symptoms they often think are the result of something else…like bipolar disorder or depression. In fact, many women with PMDD report not only PMS-like symptoms that are extreme and debilitating, but also much more dramatic and difficult-to-manage changes in mood and thought patterns, often leading to misdiagnosis. But intuitively, they know there’s something about their monthly cycle that seems to be playing a role, so they begin to chart their symptoms.
These symptoms are numerous and vary from person to person but generally involve anxiety, increasing irritability, hypersensitivity of the senses, depression, rage and other uncontrollable emotions. Thoughts can become insistent and feel “uncharacteristic” to the person having them. It is as though the mind becomes polluted, distorting everything. PMDD also seems to exacerbate underlying medical conditions, making it unique to every woman and can include dizziness, sluggishness, bloating, heavy bleeding, and sore muscles. But by and large, it is the increasing loss of patience and intensifying irrationality that makes PMDD such a nightmare, not only for the women, but for the people they love.
In fact, many find that during the 10-15 days of their hormonal sensitivity, they lose interest in their partners…not just sexually, but often to the extent of detesting them altogether. Some report regularly breaking up with their partners on a monthly basis. This Jekyll and Hyde transformation wrecks havoc on relationships of all kinds, not just romantic ones. It’s difficult for mothers to parent and for employees to continue with duties as usual. Overwhelmed by fatigue, cravings, paranoia, or even suicidal thoughts, normal life remains out of reach until the sensitivity ends, usually with the onset of menses–though there is debate the sensitivity fluctuates for some women at other times in their cycle. What’s important to realize is that the symptoms do disappear, sometimes instantaneously, whether it is the day the menstrual cycle starts or several days later. And suddenly, things are back to normal…but often leaving a great deal of destruction behind. In fact, women with PMDD often feel as though they spend two or more weeks a month in hell and the other two or less making up for it.
Think you might have PMDD? Here’s what you’ll want to do:
1. Start by paying attention to your cycle and taking notes. Get yourself a pocket calendar or use and app like iPeriod or PMS Tracker. Then start keeping track. When do symptoms hit? When do they stop? What are the main symptoms and to what degree are they experienced? Do they progressively get worse? Think not just of physical symptoms. Consider your emotional and mental states as well. Are you more prone to tears or anxiety? Is it more difficult to think positively? Have others commented about a change in your mood?
2. Take several months of your notes with you to your doctor if you decide to take a Western approach. Explain that you think you may have PMDD. If he or she dismisses you, find another doctor–one who will help you determine whether or not you have it, explain your options (they aren’t all that great at the moment and there is no known cure), and work with you to help you cope.
3. Educate yourself and find additional support. As a relatively new disorder, there is still much to be discussed and researched about PMDD. Read up on it online and talk to others who have it. Women who realize they have a condition with a name to it are usually very relieved when they realize they are not alone…and not crazy! Facebook has several groups, both open and closed, including a support group for family members of PMDD sufferers that offer insight, coping strategies, the latest science, and a safe place to vent.
If you do indeed have PMDD, now that you know, you can give yourself the support you need to get through it. It may call for changes in your diet, supplements, exercise and meditation, or even medication. And if you don’t have it? Chances are you know someone who does, and she might not realize what it is. So share what you’ve learned with others and help spread the word about PMDD.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

PMDD Awareness Month Ends, But the Struggle Continues

Today wraps up the end of PMDD Awareness Month.  I've spent the month sharing on Facebook and Twitter several posts from my Voices of PMDD series, where women with PMDD and their partners have shared their stories.  The quotes that follow come from Hormone Hell, the personal journey blog of a fellow PMDD Advocate, Jarrah, who asked her readers to describe what PMDD feels like to them.  I've chosen several responses that I fear we can all relate to in some way.  Please read on, and, if nothing else, know that you are far from alone in your struggles with the demon that is PMDD.  Perhaps one or more of these descriptions will help you to put into words for a loved one what it's like for you, each and every month, and raise awareness in your own way.
On my bad days it feels like my nerves are on the outside, that everything hurts, and there’s a heavy blanket on me that I can’t get out from.
It feels like nails in my brain that prevent me from thinking correctly. The nails stay in my skull for about 2 weeks and then they finally go away and I can think again.
Your brain feels like mush, your memory is poor. You're actually scared that one day you’re going to wake up and forget who you are. Your digestive system is going crazy, you’re constipated one minute, rushing to the toilet the next. Your bladder needs to empty itself 6 times in a single hour. You're hot, no you’re cold, umm, you’re hot again. You love your husband one minute and consider filing for divorce the next. If one more person chews, breathes or coughs, there will be bloodshed.
I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m laughing…now I’m crying. My joints ache. I am only 29 but I feel 99. My hair is thinning; it’s so dry it feels like straw. I have permanent dark circles under my eyes. My skin is so dry it’s flaking.
You’re so tired but no matter how much sleep you get, you still wake feeling tired. You’re hungry one minute, you’re nauseous the next. You can’t breathe; your heart races and you can’t stop sweating. You don’t want to be touched, you feel suffocated if someone sits close to you.
Overthinking is an everyday occurrence and often your head is swimming with thoughts that leave you feeling terribly anxious. You no longer look forward to anything, as each day is just a matter of survival. You have no passion and no longer think about the future. You hate this empty person you have become.
You start daydreaming about dying. Deep down, you know there’s a part of you that definitely does not want to die. You know that, logically, things are fine and you will be okay. But you can’t FEEL that. All you feel is despair, hopelessness, and a suddenly strong urge to leave this world.
Worthless. Empty. Angry. Bloated. Exhausted. Sometimes I just wish I could disappear…just lay down in the grass and get absorbed in to the earth somehow. Oh yeah, and Crazy. I know what I feel isn’t normal, but I can’t change it…at least until my period comes and then I’m right as rain.
Anticipation for hell week becomes a hell week in itself. I can’t control the choking wave of anxiety or the rage of this demon but I have changed my outlook. It will not own me.  I will not let it drown me.  I will swim and swim until I come up for air. Until the next storm. There have been a few hell weeks where no matter how hard I swam I could not escape the urge to let it pull me under and take me in its entirety. Those days and those times I don’t know how anyone makes it out alive.  
Rage, anxiety, mind going crazy, all of those things attacking you all at once. You wish it was over and the sad thing is you have no control over it. You see yourself doing all these dumb things and you try and stop it but it’s so hard to control. But you keep fighting because you love your family and you love yourself too much to give up!
Like a tightness of the skull above the eyes, like my skin and hearing is super sensitive, so I have a headache and am easily overwhelmed. This coupled with lowered patience and attention span means I’m really short-tempered. Sometimes that results in a snappy comment and then unreasonable crying (e.g. about burnt pine nuts), but other times it’s disproportionate rage. Sometimes it’s just a brain fog, where I sit and stare at the work computer, trying to figure what I’m supposed to be doing, and how someone is paying me to sit and feel like my powers of logic and reason have been pulled out through my eye sockets.
It’s like a switch that is flicked inside me as soon as ovulation begins. From that point on I become the opposite of what I consider to be my “normal” self. I’m suddenly extremely anxious, paranoid, worried, irritable and I can snap at the smallest things. The rages are life-destroying. They hurt everyone I care for, and scare off anyone else. My period finally begins and within a day or two, my mood lifts. The anxiety goes away, the paranoia is no longer there. I can think rationally and logically. I have energy to do anything I want, and sadly most of that time is spent picking up the pieces of the storm that lives inside of me, and has--for now--disappeared.  
At the start depression starts to set in, aching body, foggy head, headaches, high anxiety, pains in the stomach, sweating, panic attacks when I go in public, hysterical crying, at my worst, thoughts of suicide. Then my period arrives...all those feelings and thoughts are gone just like that…I’m back, me again, I’m back to normal. I can go to work with ease (if I still have a job). I can go out anywhere with no panic attacks, anxiety (what anxiety?) I am fun, I enjoy being around people and they enjoy being around me. I wish I could be this person all the time, I hate knowing it is short lived and the devil lady will be back again soon.
Sensitivity to light and sound…my son talks and talks and I just want to curl in a ball to escape. That’s horrible to say…but I just can’t handle it.
I always wonder if this mental illness will kill me one day—I’m sure it will. The brightest days are good. I enjoy them. The darkest days however, seem like I won’t ever escape them. Each time it feels like maybe this could be it, the one that I don’t come back from. But somehow I make it through. PMDD is cruel. It’s like every month, sanity is dangled in front of me and I have to hold onto it. There’s a glimmer of hope that this month I’ll be cured, then suddenly it’s ripped away.
I was sitting in my seat watching a movie, my whole body was tense, I was clenching my teeth, my heart was racing, and I was swallowing back the nausea I felt…I tried to push all those feelings out of my head so I could try to enjoy the movie. As I sat there I couldn’t help but think…So this is what my life has come to? It’s a movie for goodness' sake and my body is acting like I need to be on alert just in case at any second someone might try and kill me.
I ended up going for a walk to try to clear my head. My legs would only carry me half way around the block, my whole body was so fatigued and I was so nauseous the symptoms reminded me of how I felt when I was in the first trimester of pregnancy.
PMDD….a war you’re constantly fighting that no one else can see.


Saturday, March 25, 2017

PMDD: Into Me See

The following is a guest post by the blgger Cheekyminx. With her permission, several of her posts about PMDD are being featured on this blog. To find out more about her work as a PMDD Advocate, please visit her Facebook page, PMDD Life Support.
I've said I wanted to write about some of the things that help me to cope with PMDD. Maybe another day. Right now, NOTHING is helping. In fact, everything is just making it worse! I suspect, hell, I know from reading the forums, that this is pretty common. Nothing helps, at least it seems that way, and everything is an irritation. A speck of dust in the wrong place can make me want to jump out the window. Yes, it’s irrational. That’s kind of the point, and I don’t need to be reminded of it…  At least I have some control over a speck of dust.
The reason nothing helps is because nothing makes this chemical shit-storm of body and mind go away. It is still there, demanding attention, making me behave in ways I cannot stand. But there are things that do bring modicums of comfort. I can take a bath. Sitting in the sunshine smelling the grass helps, too. There are also my standbys of yoga and meditation. I would be lost without them, but sometimes, they aren’t enough. Really, they’re never enough…not during PMDD. They just offer a bit of relief and keep me as stable as possible.
The saddest thing may just be that so many of us have to get through this pretty much unsupported and alone. Very few people get it enough to be of help. The fact is, if you don’t have it, you just don’t get it. This includes friends, roommates and partners who, needless to say, have a very hard time of it, and often wind up making everything worse, even if they don’t intend to. Even if it was me on the receiving end of this phenomenon, I don’t know how I would respond. I guess it would depend on my own mental state that day. Sadly, PMDD ruins plenty of relationships.
But one can dream that suddenly, it wasn’t such a horrible thing for others to cope with…
Dream Sequence
I wake up and I can feel the stirring of hormonal reaction inside my body. The good days have passed. Shit! Here we go again. Two weeks until my period when I can think and act straight again and not detest myself for having no control.
In walks my husband with a bouquet of flowers. “Good morning, sunshine!” he says.
“Drop dead.” Shit, I think to myself. Did that just come out? Oh, crap, oh crap, oh crap. I want to enjoy the flowers. They are so beautiful. Please, please, please let me just enjoy the flowers. How did he know how much they would mean to me? And yet, I can’t express it. The only words out of my mouth are “drop dead?” What is wrong with me?
“Honey, I won’t take what you said to mean anything,” he says. “I know what day this is…um…I know any day now I’ll be losing you for a week or two to that whatever it is…but I just want you to know, I’m going to do everything I can to make it easier for you this time.”
Really? I think, heart melting inside while I roll my eyes on the outside thinking of what a damned irritating [insert cuss word] he usually is at this time. How does he intend to do that? Go on vacation for two weeks without me? He would abandon me like that!
I go down to the kitchen expecting crumbs on the cutting board, knowing I’m about to get all wound up, and what’s this? The kitchen has been cleaned! I mean, really cleaned! The floor actually sparkles. It’s a miracle!
“Do you want breakfast?”
“Just leave me alone,” comes out of my mouth while "Yes, please make me your lovely eggs" never leaves my lips.
“I’ll make some eggs. If you don’t want them, you don’t have to eat them. If you do, I’ll leave them here for you.”
Hmm…what’s gotten into him? I start to think paranoid and judgmental thoughts. I just manage to hold back the bitter words that want to exert my independence, “I can make my own eggs!”
“Oh, by the way, I know how much it’s been bothering you that I hadn’t fixed that sink since we moved in two months ago, so guess what?”
What? Another empty promise to fix it…someday…next year? I’m biting my tongue because I KNOW I’m thinking with way too much exaggeration. Words start leaking out…words I KNOW will only do more harm than good…
“I called the plumber. He’ll be here next week when you feel better.”
He… I can’t help but smile. The tension in my body that usually just gets tighter and tighter is starting to untwine. This is all getting to be too much.
“I also tidied my room just so you won’t have to be repeatedly irritated by the disorder in there. I know it affects you and makes things worse. In fact, I’ve decided to take care of everything on this here list that I normally force you to tolerate and remind me of month after month like I’m deaf. I may let things slide at other times, but I realize it just makes things worse once your cycle again. Besides, it really is my responsibility…”
Oh, my God! I just want to cry now. I have to cry. So out it comes. I am sobbing uncontrollably. Great. Now he’ll take it personally and the world falls to shit.
He doesn’t say anything. He gets a pained look on his face…and then, it happens. Another miracle. He takes me by the hand, leads me upstairs, and holds me on the bed while I finish crying. At first, I push him away. I can’t bear to be touched. It actually hurts. But he holds me even tighter. He isn’t trying to get me to stop crying, or offering me Kleenex, or asking me what’s wrong. He’s just there. Strong. Reassuring. And I feel safe for what feels like the first time in my life.
When I stop, I feel stupid. I feel embarrassed. And I push him away. He doesn’t say, “I can never do anything right.” He doesn’t throw up his hands. He doesn’t call me crazy or make me feel worse than I already do. He just says, “Honey, I love you. I’ll give you some time and space. I’ll go get some groceries because I know we are out of bananas and chocolate…and frankly, that scares me right now.”
I want to say, “and we need lettuce” but I can’t get it out my mouth. Why the fuck can’t he remember the fucking lettuce? And then I cry some more, ashamed of my ridiculous thoughts but also, feeling a strange sweetness inside. I think I’ll bake him some cookies.
I know. It’s just a dream. Maybe it is too much to ask. Is it catering and kowtowing? Is it just too utopian? To expect another person to be able to behave this way when faced with judgment, contempt, rage, and the other unpleasantries that consume a woman in PMDD? Is it too much to expect someone not to take such seemingly personal attacks personally? To be able to be in our heads knowing what it is we need or want when it is suddenly impossible for us to just speak it? To be able to set aside their own discomforts with whatever has taken us over to wonder, my God, what is it like for her?
I suppose so. People are people after all. There no such thing as a Stepford Husband.
Then again, maybe this is all it would take to change the patterns and break the cycles. Maybe, PMDD is a dis-ease in consciousness designed to make us learn things we never would have otherwise about ourselves and each other, given the compassion and support to get through it. What are the lessons? If we knew that, we wouldn’t be going through it. Maybe learning them would be the difference between escalation and management.
Or is it just spiritual bullshit to think there are lessons. And even if there are, what if they aren’t being learned?
If nothing else, maybe this little dream illuminates the secret machinations of the very complicated and unsettling PMDD mind.
I hope so.
Postscript: I shared this with my husband who said it helped him understand me better. I told him I wasn’t going to post it because it just felt too exposing. But then, on one of the Facebook forums, I read a post from a young woman who had just had a blowout with her boyfriend. She was so upset, and I could feel the shaking in my own body…  I thought about what my husband said, that this helped him understand. I thought about what he did for me after reading this: fixed the sink, took me grocery shopping, didn’t walk away when I was emotionally over-stimulated but held me instead. He just wants me to be happy. Given a little information, he actually wants to put it into practice. So, I’m getting over my damned self and sharing this now because it just may help someone else.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

PMDD Quote of the Week

~I wasn't always easy to get along with and I used to be less under control, but now I will warn the people in my life that I have PMDD and take responsibility for it but I still get harassed about it, like they think I'm making things up, like when it makes me irritable, or cold, or cry for no reason.  I make sure that they know it's that time and nothing is personal, yet they still act surprised when I show symptoms.  They try to debate me about my emotions, which after years I have come to accept I have less control over, but they don't trust me about my own experiences.~

Friday, July 4, 2014

Chemical Sensitivities and PMDD



 Over the years I've become increasingly more sensitive to chemicals, fragrances, and any kind of scented products, be they cat litter, candles, or cosmetics.  If a product has a petroleum base and a name that is clearly made up--such as Ocean Breeze or Home Made Apple Pie--I need to stay as far away from it as possible.  I first discovered this over twenty years ago when a woman walked into the office where I worked and offered to sell me knock-off versions of expensive perfumes and proceeded to spritz them all over the place.  She left without a sale as I instantly developed a massive headache that lasted the rest of the afternoon. 
My list of substances to avoid grew from there.  Wood smoke, treated lumber, paraffin candles, any kind of scented candles or room deodorizers, home cleaning products, paints and stains, body lotions, soaps, shampoos, deodorants, and eventually, even the real brands of premium perfume. I now can't go to the mall, pet store, electronics store, furniture store, home improvement store or beauty shop without taking a Benadryl.  I need to stay out of the cleaning products, pet supplies, paint, tire, shoe, furniture, and home accents aisles in discount and department stores. 
As for seasonal items like the Christmas aisle with its scented pine cones and stuff?  Forget it.  Neither can I visit used book stores anymore, without succumbing to the smell of mold and must.
Recently, we uncovered water damage to a house we bought three months ago and have yet to move into.  My husband wants to strip the wallpaper, re-paint and re-carpet the house, then air it out before I move in.  The last house I moved into eight years ago was new.  I moved in early February and by mid-April was so sick I collapsed.  It took another two months to recover, once I discovered problem:  off gasses from the building materials such as my carpet, vinyl, and laminate flooring (didn't help that this was winter and my floors are heated), paint, kitchen counters and cabinetry.  I thought I was just getting older.  I did a lot of the move myself, moving one mile down the road from my previous house, one carload at a time.  Eventually I was sleeping all the time, but unable to get any rest.  My mind became so foggy I couldn't get much of anything right.  I recall my boss asking, "Liana, what is wrong with you?" 
A recovering perfectionist, I rarely made mistakes, and suddenly I was making them all the time.  I was sitting at my desk, staring dumbly at no doubt my latest mistake on the computer screen, and I remember telling her, speaking very slowly because it was hard to form the words in my mind, "I...don't...know...all I want...to do...is sleep."  I called the builder to ask if there could be a reason I was so tired and fuzzy-minded all the time, and he suggested it was because I had no curtains and was getting too much light in the house.  Turned out all I needed to do was open the windows.  My super energy efficient house was trapping all these off-gasses inside with me, and I was breathing them over and over and over again.  Within a week the house was cleared out, and I was on the road to recovery.
But yesterday I took a trip down memory lane.  Due to the water damage in our new home, my husband and I had to go door shopping.  We also had an appointment to speak with a kitchen designer for a remodeling project.  To price doors, we stopped at another builders supply store on the way.  The salesman was wearing such strong cologne I had to stand at least 15 feet away from him while he spoke with my husband.  As we left, I told my husband I suddenly had the urge to eat anything and everything in sight, which is something that happens when I get hormonal prior to my period.  The thing was, we had just eaten breakfast before leaving for the builders supply store, so I knew I wasn't hungry. 
It was a combination of the man's cologne and the smell of new building materials making me feel like I was starving.
We got to the second builders supply store, where we had the appointment.  Halfway through, my husband said, "Your face and neck are turning bright red."  The store was filled with carpet and flooring samples, tiles, and kitchen and bathroom cabinetry.  My husband left to get me a diet soda, which for some reason I have yet to discern, always cuts my reaction to various substances. When he returned, I took a Benadryl, which also helped to ease my symptoms somewhat.  But by the time we had been in the store an hour and a half, even with taking the Benadryl and drinking the diet soda--it has to be diet for this to work for me--my fingers started swelling and tingling.  By the time we left, my wrists were tingling.  It usually moves up my arm and into my shoulders if I don't take a Benadryl and/or remove myself from the situation.  But once it starts tingling, I know it will get painful very soon, as my insides will swell up and press on the meridian nerves in my arms.  I had this constantly when I was pregnant, so much so that nightly I would sit in my rocking chair with my big belly and cry from the sheer pain of it.
(Pop quiz. What happens when you are pregnant?  You are an estrogen factory.)
So we wrapped up that appointment and headed for the paint store, to get sample cards of the color we had chosen for the kitchen.  I was not in the store three minutes before I noticed I was firmly massaging my arms, something I do when my body gets stressed from chemical exposure and starts to hurt.  I didn't smell a thing, but then I don't need to smell anything before my body reacts.  I discovered this one night when leading a faith sharing group at a friend's house.  She knew I couldn't be around burning candles, but the moment I walked into her house, the words "Something's wrong" blurted out of my mouth.  No one heard me, and I took my regular seat on the floor in front of the couch, as due to back problems I cannot sit on soft furniture. I saw no candles in the room, but as the meeting progressed, my head started to spin and pound and first my hands, then arms, then whole body began to ache until the pain felt like it was deep in my bones and all I wanted to do was curl up in a fetal position and cry. 
If I hadn't been leading the meeting, I would have left.  Finally, I asked my hostess, "Are you sure you didn't burn any candles in here before we came tonight?" and she swore she hadn't.  I said, "Well something's wrong with me and I can't figure it out."  Did you do any special cleaning for the meeting?  "No," she said, "all I did was spray the couch with Febreeze." 
The same couch I had been sitting on the floor leaning up against all night.
My intuition knew something was wrong the moment I entered the room.  My mouth even blurted it out.  I didn't smell a thing, but my body reacted instantly and painfully.  To this day I cannot be anywhere near Febreeze.  I wince just watching the commercials, people spraying it all over their homes, laundry, and cars.
But back to our shopping trip.  After the kitchen design appointment, my husband stopped at two more building materials stores to check prices.  I did not go inside.  I was feeling a bit battered by then.  After he came out of the first store, instead of turning the car around and leaving, he made a circle by driving thorough the warehouse, where contractors pick up loads of lumber.  I groaned inside as the fan system in our air conditioned car pulled in the scent of all that treated lumber.  After we visited the second store, and then the paint store, I announced, "We're going to get something to eat.  Right now."  We went to a sub shop, and I wolfed that baby down so fast you would think I hadn't eaten in three days.  Thank God it wasn't our first date or my husband would have wondered about this woman who eats like a Doberman. 
As soon as I finished my sub, my husband says..."There she is.  My wife is back again."  During the appointment and shopping stops, I had become listless and withdrawn, my energy sapped.  I could barely focus on the choices they wanted me to make.  I just wanted to get out of there.  I had chosen that store because the woman and I had worked together before twice.  We hadn't seen each other in nine years though, and since then, I'd entered perimenopause.  She was tall and thin and stylishly dressed, while I was feeling fat and puffy, dim-witted and inadequate.  Afterward, I determined (in my building-materials-chemical buzzed mind) that I was a failure in life and wouldn't return to that store ever again because the differences between us threw into stark relief her success and my failures.
Hello?  I'm now descending into a full-blown case of PMDD.  My insecurities are rising, and my mind is starting to go irrational.  By now every word my husband speaks is starting to irritate me, so I withdraw even further into myself and look out the window and keep my mouth shut, because I know if I open it, I will explode with anger and resentment and he will get this shell shocked look on his face.  
We get home, and all I want to do is go to my computer, where behind the veil of the internet, I can answer questions about PMDD and help people to understand the disorder and feel like I am making a difference in someone's life.  I need this feeling in this moment to feel any sense of self-worth. 
This is how badly these building materials chemicals have distorted my thinking processes. 
Instead, I ask my husband if he wants to go for a walk.  Maybe the fresh air will clear my head and make me feel better, because by now I ache all over and just want to go to bed and curl up under the covers and cry. 
Instead, we pass a few lawns freshly treated with pesticide, and I come home feeling worse than ever.
The evening is a loss.  The only option for me is to take another Benadryl and go to bed. 
Where it turns out I cannot sleep, my mind is so agitated and upset.  I can't stop thinking about how insecure and inadequate I felt during my kitchen design appointment.  How overwhelmed I was by the whole process.  That is not me.  I have designed and built two houses and remodeled two others.  I can do this stuff in my sleep.  But inundated by the scent of building materials, I lost my self-confidence and sense of self-worth, and in essence brought on an episode of PMDD. 
If I hadn't turned red and my husband hadn't noticed it, I would never have known what happened. 
If this had happened years ago (and maybe it did, I've simply forgotten), I would never have known what happened.  Instead, I would have spent a few hours looking at building materials, chosen the cabinets, tile, flooring and paint for what promises to be a beautiful kitchen, and come home feeling overwhelmed, worthless, insecure, sad, angry, frustrated, combative, weepy, and ravenous, and never understood why.  That, in turn would have made me wonder if I was crazy.  Here I am, getting everything I want, and yet all I want to do is snap my husband's head off.  I want to lash out at him so badly I hurt from containing all my rage inside. 
Or so I think.  In reality, my body is being chemically disrupted by what are called xenoestrogens, and they are playing havoc with my hormones, and that is f*****g with my brain.
So the next time you're out shopping and come home feeling any of the above, or visit a friend's house who uses petroleum-based cleaning products, candles and/or air fresheners and come home feeling weird and moody--know that it is not you.  It is the chemicals in the air around you messing with your mood and mind.  They may also be making you feel physically miserable, which brings on that endless loop of negative thoughts we're all so familiar with, which in turn makes us feel sad and/or angry.
Look around you.  Look in your home.  Do you use these sorts of petroleum-based products?  Are you unknowingly making yourself sick?  Some women report that they feel like they are in the PMDD zone all of the time.  Sometimes this is due to perimenopause, but it could also be due to what you touch and breathe in all day.   Do you work in an auto parts store?  A furniture store where most of the items are made of particleboard? At the mall?  A lumber yard?  A kitchen and bath store?  An electronics store?  Do you clean houses for a living?  Are you a flight attendant?  Did you just move your office into a new building or remodel your home?  Are you a cashier and handle thermal paper receipts all day?
There are any number of options for how and where you can be exposed to these xenoestrogens that wreak havoc on your hormones.  Awareness is the key.
But most of all, when you start acting all funky and not like yourself at all...look around you for a possible reason.  Did you just buy tires and sit in the waiting room while they were put on?  THINK about this. Think about where you go and what you do.
I bet that suddenly a few things will start to make a lot more sense.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Voices of PMDD, The Other Side of PMDD

This week I'm going to redirect you to two of my favorite posts....after a while, posts get shuffled out of sight, and unless you know they exist, it's hard to find them.  But based on letters I've received and comments I've read over the past few weeks, these two are well worth posting again... 

The Other Side of PMDD

and

The Other Side of PMDD, Continued

Each is about what it is like to experience an episode of PMDD from inside a PMDD woman's mind.

May these posts bring you some answers and relief.  They can also be helpful for partners to read.

Be blessed,

Liana

Liana Laverentz is the award-winning author of two books on PMDD, PMDD and Relationships, and PMDD: A Handbook for Partners.  Both books are based on the most asked questions by her readers, and therefore the most popular posts on her blog, Living on a Prayer, Living with PMDD.  Both books are also an excellent resource for understanding your PMDD and starting a meaningful conversation with loved ones who want to know more about this debilitating disorder we live with daily. 

Sunday, February 23, 2014

The Voices of PMDD, She's Just a Devil Woman


I posted Juliet's story once before, but then moved it to another page, and am now moving it back again, as I am rearranging my blog.  So, if you think you have read this before, you may well have, but it is well worth reading again.  If you are new to my blog, then welcome.  Once you read a few pages, you will learn you are not as alone as you might think you are, but in very good company!  Thank you so much, Juliet, for sharing your story with us, not once, but twice! 

She's Just a Devil Woman

Today, if you’ll forgive me, I’m allowing myself a small indulgence, little bit of self-therapy if you will. I’m having one of my PMDD days. Have you ever had that feeling that some other power or entity was taking control of your mind, orchestrating your feelings and directing your actions? Well, I get that once a month, and it’s never a positive experience. Thanks to a complicated cocktail of brain chemistry and raging hormones, on a four-weekly basis I find myself mutating into a fearsome, irritable, totally unreasonable monster.
Now, the vast majority of friends and not-so-close family will probably find this quite unpalatable. Most of them know that I pride myself on trying to keep an air of affability and co-operation, in fact my job demands that I maintain this, and 90% of the time, this comes as the result of a heartfelt personal passion that people are nice, deserve a fair break and should be treated with kindness. 
I’m so glad that these people don’t live with me.
When the time comes and the internal switch within me trips, you really wouldn’t want to be around me. Ask my family, I border on the psychotic, with episodes ranging from a disgruntled huffiness and tactical withdrawal to an all-out psychotic rage-monster screaming abuse for the smallest infraction.  It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s also something I’m not in control of. It’s called Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, what I would only describe as PMT’s Evil Twin. It’s a condition that the medical world has only really started to recognise in the last couple of decades, but, you betcha, it’s been around a long time before then. History is peppered with tales of Mad Women, those possessed by demons and hurled into flaming pits, burned at the stake, drowned on ducking stools or thrown into archaic asylums. I can’t help wondering if a fair majority of these women were fellow sufferers of PMDD, especially as the whole ‘possessed’ moniker rings such a familiar bell. I know that, when I am in the throes of a particular bad rage episode, it feels like the ‘Red Mist’ has come down; I want a fight, but I don’t even know what I necessarily want to fight about. No amount of calm negotiation, reasoning or fair discussion can drag me down from my self-created pedestal of indignation. What makes it all the worse, is that, once the dust has finally settled down and I’ve returned to my ‘normal’ self, the whole episode is nothing but some misty half-memory. That wouldn’t be such a problem had I been the only victim of my angst-ridden screeching, however, it is my nearest and dearest that suffer too. As I slump in my chair, cup of coffee and much-needed chocolate bar in hand, I am forced to face the wreckage  of my emotional explosion- frightened children, an affronted husband and maybe even a terrified cat. It is then that the guilt floods in at the horror and turbulence caused by my ‘other self’ kicks in, and I find myself desperate to make amends. It is this desperation that usually sparks off stage 2 of my condition, the deep, hopeless depair.
A great amount of credit must go to my family for suffering this too long. My children are still too young to understand why Mummy flies into unprecedented rages over behaviours that, sometimes just hours before, elicited nothing more than a wry smile and an exasperated sigh. It must be a very confusing time, especially exacerbated by my repulsion at that time for any unsolicited physical contact. Poor kids, one minute they’re the butt of their mother’s rage, but then the usual offer of a cuddle just doesn’t make it better. As for my husband, well, the poor man has endured twenty years of the monthly Screaming Harpy episodes, and has done me the favour of never threatening to leave (even though he’s been shown the door or many an occasion). Together we have worked through many coping strategies and he has finally seemed to have settled on a vague acceptance and the eternal knowledge that it is only a passing phase. He is, indeed, my rock in the tumultuous seas of my hormone-addled mind, and I am forever grateful for the times he has held me as I weep on his shoulder in waves of remorse asking, yet again, “am I really like this every month?”
My PMDD has ruined more holidays, trashed more days out and screwed up more anniversaries then I care to remember. 
Of course, in this storm, there is a rainbow. Today, the medical world is coming to terms with the fact that such a condition of mine does exist, and we have progressed a long way from being diagnosed with “women’s troubles” and sent away from the doctors with a prescription of “deal with it, it’s part of the wonders of being a fertile female”. Medical experts the world over are still pondering over the actual causes of PMDD, some argue it is purely hormonal, others think it is cerebral. Some again cite environmental and dietary factors. For me, what seems to work best is a daily minimum dose of Prozac. It seems to help a lot, not so much in altogether preventing the attacks of irritability and rage that strike me, but more in allowing me a ‘buffer zone’ between my Jekyll and Hyde, the balanced me and the monster. With this buffer I have the opportunity to examine the causes of my anger for what they really are, and not to pick a monstrous fight over a pointless issue.
The best medical breakthrough for me, however, is not the treatment of the condition, but the recognition. To a degree, I feel vindicated, I’m not entirely mad. There have been many times, believe me, that I truly wondered if I was a mental-case, and therefore better off removed from normal society. That’s what PMDD does to you, it divorces you from your normal, rational self and throws you into a pit of rage and despair. The only positive thing for me, is that it’s a transient thing, relieved later in the month by the realignment of my hormones.  So many women dread the arrival of their period, I warmly welcome it. I cannot begin to understand those who suffer from other mental health problems from which there is no respite,  that must be another level of Hell altogether.
I only wish that this disabling condition had been recognised sooner in my life, and then, maybe, some relationships may have been different. My own mother, with whom I have good relationship today, openly admits that she “hated” me during my adolescent years, a feeling, no doubt derived from my sporadic and undeserved outbursts. Add to the mix an alcoholic father, whose own moods were driven by an entirely different but no less unpredictable ‘chemical’, and no wonder my teenage  home-life was sometimes a difficult and dysfunctional one.
Still, I live to tell the tale and I hope that my own daughter does not suffer in the same way that I did. Although, even if she does, at least I have the advantage of understanding her in the way my own family did not have the capacity for.
Thank you for reading my tale. If any of you are fellow sufferers, I hope you gleaned a small amount of understanding and knowledge that you are not alone. And for those of you who are fortunate enough not to suffer, at least you know when best to avoid me. Or better still, leave large gifts of chocolate at my doorstep before ringing the bell and running for your life!

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Preparing Ahead for Your PMDD



Hello and welcome...today we have a fantastic guest post by Renell that was originally posted on Facebook.  I've chosen to add my two cents worth in italics (Sorry! It's the writer/editor in me!) so if it reads like two people are talking here, that's why.  Please feel free to leave any positive suggestions YOU might have for coping with/managing your PMDD in the comments section.  I'm sure we could all use a bit of help in that area.  Thank you for stopping by, and may this help you in preparing for the next time your PMDD comes around...

I now turn the keyboard over to Renell...

Hi, everyone!  I'll get right down to business: In recognizing a common theme in the comments on the Facebook PMDD loops I belong to, I'd like to offer some tips for support I've found helpful in my own therapy. We all know that every single month like clockwork our hormones will wreak havoc and PMDD will rear its ugly head. If you're anything like me, you suffer through it and once the symptoms subside you're so glad to feel normal again that you forget you have PMDD at all.

Or at least we want to forget!  This is one of the places where denial comes in...when the episode is over and we want to just pretend it didn't happen, so we don't have to deal with all the problems we created during the episode.  Unfortunately...

PMDD will remind you it's here to stay once that dreaded ovulation day rolls around yet again. Embracing this disorder means we need to accept its existence in our lives and plan for it.

I like that...embracing this disorder.  Might as well, because it's not going to go away.

Let's try to be proactive rather than reactive to our PMDD. Here are some ways you can plan ahead. These tips are useful whether you choose natural therapy or medication to relieve your symptoms.

1. Mark off the dreaded luteal phase on your calendar for the upcoming month so you know when the PMDD symptoms will likely begin.

2. Plan your activities around these days according to how your mood is likely to accept them. Make sure your partner knows what's going on as well so that he/she can help you with extra support.

3. Do housecleaning or laundry ahead of time. I clean the entire house the week before my luteal phase so that when I am in the PMDD zone I don't have major cleaning to be bothered with. It also helps to relax in a nice clean house.   I love this idea, Renell!

4. If you only take meds during your luteal phase and they take a few days to kick in, consider taking them a few days early so they have already kicked in on the first day of ovulation (Warning: Discuss this with your Dr. if you're not sure that this is okay given the type of meds you are taking)
.
5. If you are highly irritable during your PMDD episodes schedule time to be alone. Sometimes it's hard for us to be around anyone during this time. Don't feel bad for needing this and do whatever you can to carve out time for yourself.  (I added the bold).

6. If you are prone to getting depressed during this time, schedule time to be around supportive friends who can help. No sense in going through this alone. Calling a friend or family member over to simply talk in your sweats or pj's helps quite a bit.

7. Shop ahead. Stock the fridge with healthy foods like leafy greens, fruits and healthy carbs to boost your energy during this phase. You'll crave junk food and if you already have healthy food on hand you'll be less likely to drive through a fast food joint for a greasy salt, sugar, and fat-laden meal that will only make you feel worse.

8. This one is important: Lower your alcohol intake. Again if you're anything like me you'll start guzzling the wine in hopes that it will relieve your anxiety. I don't usually get drunk, just a glass or two at a time. But doing this every night for weeks is not a good thing and the alcohol can actually make our anxiety and depression worse. It can lead to alcohol dependency among other serious health problems. It also is dangerous to mix with many medications that a lot of us are on. I personally recommend that you stay away from alcohol altogether during your luteal phase. It's just not worth it and its effects are deceiving.

She's right, ladies.  Alcohol is a depressant, and when you're already depressed....sure, it makes you feel good and alive and dare I say "normal" for a couple of hours—maybe—but after that, our bodies pay in ways we can't even imagine.  Renell has addressed the obvious, the possibility of alcohol dependency and the danger of mixing your meds with alcohol.  But alcohol can also mess up your blood glucose situation and don't forget....when we're having a PMDD episode every negative thought is magnified many times over, plus...our brain isn't processing information correctly to start with. 
 
So why add alcohol into that mix?

Just think about it the next time you reach for that attempt at self-medication.  Try doing something good for your body instead.  Something you've prepared for ahead of time.

Okay, now it's your turn. What are some DO AHEAD ideas that have helped you plan for your PMDD?