The Voices of PMDD, A Partner's Perspective

Do I suffer from PMDD? Well, technically no, as I’m of the wrong gender, but given one of the key parts of the definition of PMDD is that sufferers experience severe disruptions to their relationships, I suffer the effects of PMDD. One of the many nasty parts of PMDD is that the sufferer is generally unaware of the disruptions occurring around them.

Unfortunately, as a partner, I am.

So, from an outsiders perspective (well, a partner's), what does PMDD look like?

Imagine this: you are in a wonderfully loving relationship, when all of a sudden, completely out of the blue, your partner enters an unbelievable rage. You get criticized over trivial matters that have happened in the past, you are told life is much worse with you, that you are the biggest mistake ever. You attempt to present your point of view and you argue back and forth for hours. Your partner just seems to want to argue, to hurt you, to blame you for everything.  She tells you she wants to leave you. She leaves the bedroom, and potentially leaves the house and goes to sleep in her car, or in another room.

You are left dazed, confused, angry, frustrated. What just happened?

Next day: the cold shoulder. Single word responses to your questions. She wants nothing to do with you. Another set of hurtful comments coming your way that night? You approach her for intimacy, and are soundly rejected.

You make attempts to make the peace, but all fails.

The attacks are brutal—they are just words, but they seem designed to attack your greatest sensitivities, which of course she knows. Rages can last for hours—yelling, doors slamming, storming out of the house, storming back in to fight more. I’m not joking.

The worst in my household has been a 12-hour episode over night.  Scary stuff.

My partner tends to fight at night—you know, you get nice and settled in bed, then very late at night, ka-boom.

So, what have I been attacked for in the PMDD zone? Here goes:

My attitude toward my kids, my attitude toward my partner's kids, my financial habits, my relationship to my ex, my sexual interests in bed, money, my family, what my partner’s ex partner’s girlfriend thinks of me, my libido, my job, that I’m just like my partner's ex, that I’ve ruined her life, that she can’t believe she’s with me, that she only takes pills to please me...And that’s just to name a few.

My own mind becomes so bleak. I feel hated. Maybe I am that horrible a man?

Doesn’t she realize she has a man right here who loves her? The kids hear it also, but as kids can, they somehow tune it out.  My work suffers badly as well (It is incredibly hard to focus when you’ve been arguing all night.).

A week or so later, my partner’s period starts. A couple more days of extreme caution and all will be well again.

This is the world of PMDD.

So, I start to research, and thanks to a family member, start thinking about monthly cycles and an internet search leads me to PMDD. My partner fits the textbook descriptions perfectly.

One of the problems with PMDD is that few people understand it, including doctors. I’ve been to counselors whose only contribution is, “Well, she must be angry about something—anger is an emotional choice.”

Not for a PMDD sufferer it’s not.

So what have I learned?

Probably the most important thing is to put up and shut up during the PMDD zone (this is the time from ovulation (about two weeks prior to period starting) to period starting). This is also the hardest thing.

What do I mean? Well, your partner starts get angry with you, looking to start a fight, or completely ignores all your desires, needs, and feelings. The only acceptable response is to agree with her views, no matter what you are actually thinking.

One of my latest scenarios was as follows:

My partner was doing a business course, and we both stayed up until 1:00 am to get an assignment done, with me supporting her in the process.

The next night, I had a sick child, so knew I was in for a long night. Partner is distant at night, and as we go to bed, tells me I don’t appreciate her at all. I end up spending most of the night nursing my child.

Come morning, I’m now exhausted from two nights with little sleep. Response from my PMDD partner—cold shoulder. I’ve been around PMDD for a while—but even for me this was too much, so I wrote her a letter outlining my frustrations with her behavior. Bad move. I get back a letter outlining why everything in the relationship is a problem (all because of me, of course). Old issues get dredged up and flung back in my face.

So, how should this be approached? Hard as it is, just giving your partner space, and ignoring the cold shoulder. PMDD sucks. To be honest, I can understand the rationale about just letting a PMDD partner get on with the rage/anger etc, but I’ve got no idea how to emotionally ignore it. It is beyond me, and it always hurts. Every month. I’ve seen it come and go heaps of times, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

A woman in the PMDD zone is angry. Really angry. Most the time she can keep a lid on it, but she’s still angry. Ask her too many questions, or ask her to do something she doesn’t want to, and you’ll find out just how angry. She’s also likely to be depressed. Really depressed.

Trust nothing she says in the zone.

My partner has talked about killing herself, moving to the other side of world, lied to me about money, all while in the zone.

I use a Smartphone app—P Tracker, to let me know when the PMDD zone is approaching. I’m always surprised though—the actual symptoms always hit me out of the blue—they tend to be so sudden. One minute my partner is her normally loving self, the next minute she is in a rage.

And so to intimate behavior. Best to not try and initiate or expect anything during the PMDD zone as the results can be brutal. Scorn springs to mind. I’m left feeling rejected and frustrated. It is probably easiest to just expect nothing from your partner in the zone and take matters into your own hands. And guys, you know what I mean.

How do I cope? I’m really not sure I do. Tracking in P Tracker helps, as I can refer back to how bad things were, and know that they straightened out again. When you are experiencing the zone, it can help. I re-read the blog posts here, also.

Do I feel hated and rejected each month? Yes, I do. Do I wish I wasn’t? Absolutely.

Do I wish my partner didn’t suffer PMDD? Yes. But she does.

PMDD Wars: Supportive Partners, Women in Denial

I recently learned of a segment of the PMDD population I've left unaddressed--mainly because I had no idea it existed.  My post, Dealing with PMDD, Advice for Men, was written in response to the many posts I was seeing from women with unsupportive partners.  What, they wanted to know, could they do to help their partners understand their PMDD? 

So I put a post together, which in the end turned out to be three posts.  They're some of my most read posts, and I get the most mail regarding them.  But lately I have been hearing from men who love their wives and girlfriends, and would be more than willing to do whatever it took to help her to deal with her PMDD....

Only she's not interested.

Because she's not the one with the problem, he is, and if he can't deal with that, well, then...

Sound familiar?

It happens in a lot of relationships, and not just those that deal with PMDD.  One partner is trying to work things out, and the other is in denial.  Unfortunately, this is a sure-fire recipe for failure. 

For a relationship to succeed it has to have two consenting adults.  Two people behaving like grownups, each taking responsibility for their part in making the relationship work--or not work.  It's not about power, control, or changing the other person.  It's about doing your part to show your partner that your relationship is a priority in your life, and that you want it to last.

You don't do that by:

Playing the blame game

Expecting your partner to change

Trying to change your partner (for their own good or any other reason)

Ignoring your partner's needs

Being abusive to your partner

Denying there is a problem

Relationships require compromise, day in and day out.  They're not about one partner giving up all sense of self to cater to the wants and whims of the other.  It's a balancing act, and one that needs adjusting and readjusting daily.  It's hard enough to have a successful relationship between two healthy people.  Throw in some PMDD and your difficulties can increase exponentially.

But they don't have to.  Whether you believe it or not, you do have choices when it comes to your PMDD.  You can't control when it hits, but you can manage your reaction to it.  You can either take the path of least resistance and give in to your seemingly uncontrollable urges, or you can take a stand and say, "I am not my PMDD.  I am better than this." 

Your PMDD is not who you are, not the real you.  Root yourself in this knowledge and stand firm.  Refuse to let your PMDD get the better of you.  Refuse to let the negativity win.  Sure, you'll still be weepy and edgy and anxious and irrational at times....accept that that happens, but don't let it have free rein during an episode.  We all slip up now and then, but to totally immerse yourself in the negativity and irrationality...that doesn't do anybody any good--yourself, your partner, or your children.

Think of your children if you can't think of anything else.  Don't they deserve better than to see you not even trying to get along with your chosen mate?

This completely boggles my mind.  I myself entered a PMDD episode starting Friday night.  I knew it was coming, I could feel the storm approaching, and all I wanted to do was to be held.  Unfortunately, the circumstances for that to happen didn't fall in line.  It was payday and my partner was feeling flush.  He called and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner at our favorite restaurant.  I reluctantly said sure.  I was only going to heat up leftovers anyway.  Now I wouldn't have to do even that much.  In short, I adapted.  I decided to let myself be pampered another way since I couldn't have what I really wanted.  

But all night long, he kept asking, "Is something wrong?  You seem distracted."

Something was wrong, and I was distracted, but distraction is also an occupational hazard for me, so he's used to it.

Finally I said, "I can feel the storm coming."

He knew what I meant.

He took me home and I went right to bed. 

We spent the day apart on Saturday, seeing to individual tasks.  I felt all right most of the day, probably because I didn't have to interact with anyone, but around 5:00 p.m. I had an intense craving for carbs.  I ate a bowl of cereal. Shortly thereafter my partner arrived and off we went to church...where I could not stay focused to save myself.  My mind bounced from thought to thought to thought.

Afterward, now out of milk, we went to the grocery store.  I had three things I wanted to get: milk, brazil nuts (for selenium), and cat food.   It took every ounce of my concentration to stay on task, to simply remember those three items, and remember where each was located in the store.  Since by now I was feeling completely miserable--head pounding, joints aching, brain feeling like it was on fire--my mission was to get in, get my stuff, and get out. 

In church, I had let my mind wander, but now, I had to corral all those bouncing thoughts and force my mind to stay on track.  So deliberately focused was I that the minute we arrived in the parking lot, I jumped out of the vehicle and made a beeline for the store, completely ignoring my partner.  As soon as I entered the store, I saw the rack where I had last found the brazil nuts.

In that moment, nothing could have come between me and my goal. 

But they were out of brazil nuts.  They had almonds, walnuts, peanuts, pecans...but no brazil nuts.

My partner caught up with me as I stood in front of the nut rack, feeling completely derailed and wanting to weep.

I turned to him and said, "I want to cry, because there are no brazil nuts here."

I then asked him, "Am I acting strange?"

And he said, "Yes, I noticed something was off in church."

"I thought so," I said.  "It's that time again.  I'm having an episode."

I then turned away and went in search of the milk, once again leaving my partner behind.  As I was walking, I realized I was being rude.  I then recalled other times I had walked off without him and realized that each and every time it was during an episode. 

Suddenly it hit me that I wasn't trying to be rude--it was simply taking every ounce of energy I had to stay on task.  Otherwise I might look left or right, get distracted and we'd be wandering the store looking at nothing in particular until he said come on, let's go, and I would burst into tears for no apparent reason and our evening would be ruined. 

I stopped and explained this to him and we finished our shopping together.

But the whole time, I was feeling very angsty and edgy and primed to have a fight.  As he helped me out of the car when we got home, I said to him, "I could start a fight with you so easily right now."

He looked at me in surprise.  "About what?"

"That's just it," I said.  "About nothing."

I was overtired and achy and weepy and feeling like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum.  No lie.

Instead I went to bed. 

Because I know the difference between me and my PMDD.

And because our relationship matters to me.

It might not have been the most exciting ending to either evening, but at least it wasn't filled with a lot of drama that would leave each of us feeling devastated and alone.  My partner understood my need for rest and solitude because I was able to express it in a quiet and (somewhat) rational matter.  My partner understands my sudden rudeness and self absorption is not a reflection of him, but rather of my PMDD. 

With a different partner, it could have gone completely differently. 

If I had behaved differently, it could have gone completely differently.

Because inside of me was someone dying for a fight.  It didn't matter what the fight was about.  All I wanted to do was goad my partner into sparring with me until I could no longer stand my own irrationality and then burst into the tears I so desperately wanted to weep--and blame him for ruining everything.  Maybe even blame him for abandoning me or not loving me when he walked out the door in sheer frustration, for lack of knowing what else to do.

Not because he doesn't love me.  But because I wouldn't let him love me.  Wouldn't let him see my need, my vulnerability, my (what some would call) weakness, and wouldn't trust him to take care of me.

Think about it:  Which would you rather be...lovingly cared for, or crying and alone?

I'm still having an episode.  My head still pounds, my eyes hurt, my joints hurt, my back hurts, my brain burns, and I want to cry.  There is no doubt I could be drawn into an argument, any argument, with anyone, at the drop of a hat.  It may still happen...because sometimes the strength to hold the negativity at bay just isn't there.  But I do know that if it happens, it will only be for a moment, before I catch myself again, and remind myself that I am not my PMDD, and that my blindsided target doesn't deserve to be abused just because I am having a bad day. 

No one does.

The Queen of Denial

She’s baaaack! And I’m not talking about me, writing this blog post. I’m talking about The Alien, or my PMDD self. After several months of relatively mild episodes, suddenly I’m hit with a humdinger. You know from my previous post, A Perfect Storm of PMDD, that I am one of the unfortunate many who have atypical PMDD, in that it occurs both before and after I menstruate. Kind of like a hurricane, with menstruation in the middle, serving as the eye of the storm, where I might feel lousy physically, but I’m clear-headed and things are relatively calm.

So, about ten days ago, I could feel a storm blowing in. I notice I’m starting to get agitated about things that don’t usually faze me. I realize I am emotionally looking for a fight, anywhere I can find it. I check the calendar, confirm it’s about that time of the month, and warn those closest to me that it may be a rocky few days. I back away from conversations and situations I know will set me off, and postpone any important decisions or discussions for a few days.

The storm came and went, no major incidents, other than a couple of afternoon naps due to extreme sleepiness. Menstruation started, and life was good again, aside from the physical discomforts of having a period. Usually, the second half of my PMDD begins on Day 3 of my period. So when Day 3 came and went with no trouble, I thought I was in the clear, home free, another PMDD episode averted. Kudos to me once again for not letting my PMDD get the better of me and wreaking all sorts of havoc in my life and personal relationships.

But this was not my usual period. This one lasted six days instead of three. Not a problem. I’m okay. Life is still good.

But then yesterday morning, I started noticing things. Like I tried to address an envelope, and my handwriting was all jumpy and spiky. My hand couldn’t control the pen the way it usually does. My typing was off, too. Kept hitting the wrong keys.

No matter. I’m just in a hurry.

Then I went to a funeral, at a church I had never been to before. I got lost. Suddenly I’m feeling anxious, confused, and my thoughts are scattered.

No biggie, it can happen to anyone.

At the funeral, all I wanted to do was weep.

Not a problem. People are supposed to be sad at funerals.

I came home, fixed myself something to eat. I work at home (in part due to my PMDD), so I started to work in my sun-drenched living room.

Suddenly I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.

Nothing unusual there, I told myself. The room was warm and I had just eaten.

Never mind that the room is equally warm and sunny most days, and I eat lunch every day about the same time and don’t get sleepy.

Finally I give in and take a nap, unable to concentrate or stay awake. It still hasn’t dawned on me, what is happening.

I wake up, totally ravenous, and wanting nothing but CHOCOLATE.

Still haven’t caught on. Or if I have, I’m in denial. I don’t have time for this nonsense. I have work to do.

A friend calls. We’re supposed to meet later on, go to Qigong class together. I want to know how soon “later on” is. Is it 4:30, 5:30, 6:30? If it’s sooner rather than later, I’ll wait to eat with my friend. If it’s later, I’ll eat now. No big deal either way, I just want to know, so I can plan my evening accordingly.

Somehow that simple conversation goes totally awry, and I end up in tears.

Bingo. The Alien has struck again. Now I know what’s going on. My PMDD has returned for round two. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, all I want to do is cry, and go back to sleep. But I’m too agitated and upset to go back to sleep, and I’m so effing hungry I want to scream. But I just ate a full meal a couple of hours ago. There’s no logical reason to be so hungry.

My friend calls back to see if I’m all right. How do I explain that everything is fine…but it’s not? How do I explain PMDD? This isn’t the type of conversation you want to have over the phone. It’s best that the other person can see the glassiness in your eyes, the exhaustion on your face, the lack of energy and slump of your body.

I fix something to eat (healthy carbs!) and work on a small project that only needs minimal concentration for an hour or so.

My friend arrives, and I try to explain what happened. He asks, “What can I do to help?”

The only answer I can come up with is, “Just be nice to me. I’m fragile today. Oh, and you might need to run interference for me at class. I’m not feeling very social right now.”

We go to class, and all goes well. I manage to muddle through the social aspects of class. The Qigong exercises get the blood circulating, produce the necessary boost in endorphins and serotonin. By the end of class, which was the absolute last thing I wanted to go to—I’d much rather have crawled back into bed and tried to sleep away my exhaustion—I was feeling 100% again, and had bought myself a couple of PMDD-free hours.

Because in my PMDD-induced confusion and misery I had forgotten what I could do to help myself. Light aerobic exercise. When I’m in the throes of a PMDD episode, and the last thing I want to do is get up and move, that’s the very thing I need to do. A simple walk is all it takes. After about 30 minutes, I start to feel better. By 45, I’m back on an even keel. An hour of any kind of light cardio activity and all symptoms are gone…

For about two hours.

So by the time I got home, I was back to being myself again. A totally different person. I was able to make it through the rest of the evening without incident.

But as soon as I opened my eyes this morning, I felt that heavy wet blanket of depression closing in on me again. The iron band around my head, the irritated eyes, like I’ve been crying (but I haven’t), the mental fuzziness, the sense of exhaustion even before I get out of bed.

There’s no denying it this time. It’s going to be another PMDD day.

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. 

PMDD - They Only See Our Failures

I’m one of the fortunate few. Through years of carefully cultivated self-awareness, I’ve finally learned how to separate myself from my PMDD. I know that I am not my PMDD. But millions more women are out there, valiantly struggling to get though each day, secretly convinced they are going mad, and simply hoping, even praying, that one day they will wake up and the nightmare that lives inside their minds will be over.

On the outside these women may seem to be coping—some of them even coping brilliantly by all external accounts--but on the inside they are terrified by--and of--this mystifying cycle of emotional imbalance that hardly anyone understands.

They’re also afraid to tell anyone, for fear that those people, too, will think they are crazy.

Or worse, they’ve tried to tell others—friends, family, medical professionals--and have been discounted, dismissed, or simply not believed. Or perhaps the symptoms of PMDD have crashed over their internal walls and manifested themselves, and those they spend the most time with and/or are closest to have already deemed them as somehow defective. She’s a moody one all right, sweetness and light one minute, a raving bitch the next. What gives? What’s wrong with her? How can anyone be so freaking out of control?

Everyone wants to be normal, and PMDD women are no exception. But PMDD doesn’t do normal. PMDD is a biological imbalance in your brain that manifests itself both physically and emotionally. It’s the emotional part people can’t deal with. Women the world over are no stranger to physical discomfort. We can be feeling like something the dog dragged in three days ago and still meet our commitments, care for our families, run households and offices and companies and governments, head up foundations, give speeches, present or accept awards, create beautiful works of art, love our partners, and still get dinner on the table in time.

Women are awesome. We are born with the gifts of joy, laughter, insight, intuition, sensitivity, kindness, compassion, creativity, cooperation, and multi-tasking (our biggest downfall, as we routinely take on too much.) We have more endurance than men. We have more tolerance for pain, be it physical, mental, spiritual, or emotional. We are passionate in our beliefs, and loyal to those we love—even when that loyalty is far from returned.

If a woman had a broken leg, and was temporarily hobbling around on crutches, most people would understand if she was a little tired or edgy or weepy during the course of her day. Most people would offer to help, open doors, fetch and carry things for her, run some errands, give her opportunities to rest and refresh herself. Most would give her some leeway to maneuver as she tries to navigate through her suddenly complicated day. At the very least, they would try to be tolerant if her frustration spilled over.

But when our brains are temporarily broken, as in the case of the PMDD phase of our menstrual cycles, there are no boldly visible cues, like a pair of crutches. Sure, the sparkle in our eyes may dim, our heads and hearts and joints may hurt, our handwriting may become stiff and awkward, our reflexes slow and clutzy, but only those intimately acquainted with us may be able to notice. We might not even notice these things ourselves, if we aren’t paying close attention to our bodies. Which most women don’t, we’re so used to putting our own needs aside and fulfilling the roles we play for others—mother, daughter, sister, partner, caretaker, breadwinner, coordinator, confidante.

So silently we slog through our PMDD days, knowing we feel fragile inside, but with no visible way to communicate that to the world—other than our emotions. All through our lives, we’ve been socialized to believe emotions are bad for everybody but actors and actresses. Real people need to suppress their emotions. Emotions get you in trouble. Emotions are counterproductive. Emotions are messy and scary. Don’t make a scene, don’t make a fuss, don’t get hysterical, and for God’s sake, don’t ever cry.

People can’t handle it when other people cry. Men especially can’t handle it when women cry.

Anger is the accepted emotional outlet for men, but there is no acceptable emotional outlet for women. Women are not supposed to get angry. If we get angry, there’s something wrong with us—we’re being countercultural. Little girls are sugar and spice and everything nice. Women who show anger are frowned upon, called all sorts of derogatory names, dismissed, discounted, deterred and destroyed, one way or another.

And so most women turn that anger inward, where it manifests as depression.

This is what happens to someone who passes for a *normal* woman, mind you. But remember, PMDD doesn’t do normal. PMDD lifts the veil on all those suppressed emotions, all those bitten lips and mounting frustrations life throws at us, turns off the biological mechanism that holds all that suppressed emotion back, and flips the switch to ON.

PMDD is your steam valve, honey, and like clockwork, once a month it lets loose.

If you’re especially unlucky, it happens twice a month, catching you on your ovulation cycle, as well.

And when that happens, we fail. We fail spectacularly. We rant, we rave, we cry and throw things. We break things, too. Dishes and doors, spirits and hearts and hopes and dreams. We say things we don’t mean, and hurt the people we love the most.

Why? Because they can’t see inside our heads to where the synapses are temporarily not working right, because they can’t see that we’re fragile inside on those days.

Because they can’t see we’re temporarily on crutches.

And for that, people call us crazy.

We’re not crazy. We’re pre-menstrual. More about what this means next week. In the meantime, remember, You Are Not Your PMDD. It might take up a huge chunk of your life, especially since you probably spend your non-PMDD days trying to make up to everyone for the way you *supposedly* let them down on your PMDD days--but really, who let who down?

Think about it. If you were on crutches, wouldn't the people in your life treat you with more care?

So you are not your PMDD, and your PMDD is not you. It’s something you have to deal with, like you would if you broke your leg, but it does not define you. No one who doesn’t have PMDD has a clue about how much energy and effort is expended in trying NOT to blow up, NOT to burst into tears, NOT to ruin the party, the family outing, the meeting, the conference, the trip…

The relationship.

All others see is our failures. But I read the Facebook posts, and I see how hard everyone tries, and my heart goes out to each and every one of you as you describe for the others how you feel it coming on, how you feel the tension building, how you are in the middle of the storm, how you hate all of it…

And how you ache inside as you do your best to deal with the heartbreaking aftermath.

I am here, and I understand. Because while I have a better handle than most on my PMDD, can even separate it out and still get my work done when my mind is acting up the most, I know all too well how much energy that takes, and how drained you can feel at the end of the day.

And even when I make it through 90% of the day without weeping or snapping or snarling at someone, even when I’ve spent the day protecting others from myself and my moods, moods I have as much control over as I would an allergic reaction, even when I’ve done everything I can to make sure I don’t ruin their day…

There’s always the chance the dam will break.

And that is all they see.

Do not let anyone define you by your failures. It’s not right, it’s not fair, and you wouldn’t do it to them.

Take care and God Bless.