I was Diagnosed with Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder

PMDD ( Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder ) is a “cyclical, hormone-based mood disorder that affects an estimated 5% of people with ovaries.

Unlike PMS, PMDD causes severe emotional, mental, and physical symptoms, including (but not limited to):

◉ Depression

◉ Anxiety

◉ Extreme fatigue

◉ Irritability

◉ Brain fog

◉ And suicidal ideation.

These symptoms occur most often in the luteal phase of the menstrual cycle (7-14 days before a period starts) and can dramatically disrupt a person’s career, relationships, social life, and mental health.” - PMDD Project

- PMDD Project, UK

I think I’ve had something like this all the way back when I first hit puberty. There’s a distinct before and after in my mind. Before; I was active, happy, and full of energy. After; I was sedentary, depressed, and struggled to focus in classes. 

No 14 year old just randomly develops suicidal ideation without something causing it. I knew that. I always knew that, and yet no one else seemed to see the seriousness of that fact. 

I just wasn’t brave enough to question the professionals. 

Now, I know better, and I have learned to advocate for myself. It took 16 years, but at least now I have a better understanding of why I struggle so much. I wasn’t quite right about hormones being the cause, but rather it is something in my brain reacting very, very poorly to normal hormonal fluctuations. 

But the thing is, not even PMDD can explain everything I’ve experienced over the last decade and a half of my life. I also have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome ( PCOS ) which increases testosterone levels in my body, throws off my natural cycle, and can cause anxiety and depression on its own. 

So I never really had my symptoms tied directly to my cycle, because my cycle was never consistent to begin with. There’s nothing quite like telling your mom at 15 that you haven’t had a period in 10 months, and her asking if you’re pregnant. ( I was very much not. )

I always felt like I was at war with my body. I’d have weeks of clarity, where I felt invincible. I was a creative powerhouse, a determined scholar, and was a sponge ready to soak up all the knowledge fed to me through high school and college professors. 

Then, I’d have weeks of what I thought was severe burn out. Everyone hits this towards the end of a semester, but I felt so much worse than my peers far earlier than the norm, and it wasn’t consistent. It came and went - over and over and over again. 

I’d stop sleeping. I’d struggle to complete assignments. I would miss classes, call in sick to my jobs, and all together stop functioning. I spent months of time rotting away in my bed not eating, drinking, or sleeping. I was a walking corpse. 

You can really get a sense of this if you look at my performance throughout college. One month I was on the Dean’s List, soaring high, and the next I’d be flunking classes and dropping them in a desperate attempt to keep a viable GPA. 

I even switched colleges two years in, thinking it might have been my environment that was triggering these stressful, unproductive periods. Turns out, the environment I was trying to escape was my own mind.

I still look back and am amazed at how much I managed to accomplish despite the struggle. No, I didn’t graduate from college, and no, I didn’t get a book published, but I did go through four years of higher education, hitting the Dean’s List two years in a row, and even got invited to the English Honor’s Society. I also finished a novel draft over 1,000 pages long, bursting with creativity and potential for a future career in storytelling.

But none of these things bore fruit in the coming years, because the tidal waves kept coming, and I kept drowning and surfacing and drowning and surfacing for years without relief. 

I’d have just enough time during any given month to get a few pages in, to submit that job application, to go out and be social, and then I’d be dragged under, going AWOL for weeks at a time with little hope of ever seeing the sun again. 

I’ve survived self-harm and suicidal ideation and planning ( even starting to execute those plans ) multiple times throughout my life, but this year, I experienced a whole other beast. 

A few months ago, I was healing from grief and trauma accrued earlier in the year. I was genuinely feeling more positive, and my doctors were impressed with my progress. There was talk of ending my therapy, and putting a check next to my file. Case closed. Grief and trauma addressed. 

Then, like a light switch, the darkness returned with a vengeance.

It’s hard for me to put it into words, even though I’m no stranger to depression and anxiety. This was like being spartan-kicked off a cliff, with no Hollywood movie cushion. It was like someone sneaking up behind you and pushing your head under the water. There was no build-up, nor warning, no forecast. 

One day I was smiling - the next I was contemplating if my ceiling fan could hold my weight. 

The depths of my despair and misery I reached during this particular week and a half was unlike anything else, because it was so quick and violent. I was an entirely different person. Jekyll and Hyde. 

For the first time in my life, instead of feeling numb, I was terrified for my life.

I experienced it twice more in the following months, with the third feeling more manageable ( probably because by this time there were discussions of a PMDD diagnosis and I knew what to expect ) and I felt like my medications were finally smoothing out the sharper edges. 

I tracked my moods day to day, never missed a day of my pills, and became a vigilant watcher to the invisible beast waiting in the wings of my body. By that third occurrence, it was clear. I had either developed, or had aggravated existing PMDD symptoms to a new level of severity. 

Now? I guess I’m just accepting it. PMDD wasn’t even recognized as a diagnosis until about seven years ago, so it’s not like anyone really knew that it could have been applied to me back then. Even now, it only just feels like doctors and therapists and psychologists are starting to learn and become aware of it. 

I’ve been reading and researching and watching interviews and documentaries; trying to gain any knowledge that my current doctors might not know. It wasn’t only for myself, but for others who I knew must be like me; finding out about this diagnosis decades into their lives. 

I was told by my Psychiatrist that they had received a wave of PMDD patients this past year, and they too were learning how to help them. As women, we were both frustrated that this severe diagnosis was only just beginning to become more well-known. 

My heart breaks just thinking about how many people have taken their lives thinking they were crazy or broken or going insane. I was almost one of them. I still could be one of them, which is the more terrifying thought.

But, like before, I’m not giving up. I’m famously stubborn. I’m older and wiser now, and I have a good support system. This will not stop me from pursuing my dream of publication and sharing my stories despite the many setbacks I know I will be facing.

Because at the end of the day, I know it’s not my fault. I’m not broken. My brain is just different. It likes to test me, to push me toward a cliff and see if I will fall off of it and never climb back up. 

So far, I’ve always climbed out. Even if my hand just brushes the top before I’m under again, I at least am still alive, still willing to share my story, and still willing to be creative in a world and a body that constantly tries to stop me. 

If you or someone you love is experiencing PMDD, or any mental disorder for that matter, know that you are not alone. Know that you are loved, and that there are people all over the world who are fighting to improve awareness and quality of life for all sufferers. 

So far in my searches, I’ve found this charity called PMDD Project based in the UK that is specifically targeting PMDD and offers free resources online. You can also watch this documentary about PMDD survivors below:

If anyone knows about any charities or organizations in the US, please link it below!

Thank you, if you made it this far, thank you for reading. Hopefully this will reach some others like me. If you think your severe depression or anxiety is tied to your cycle, ask your doctor about PMDD. If they don’t know what it is, educate them. The more people that know, the more lives that can be saved before it is too late. 

Until my next clear headed day - keep creating and enjoying human art, my fellow Vocal Authors!