The following is something I wrote almost two months ago. I am still struggling, but not nearly as bad as I was, thanks to a WONDERFUL Holistic Nurse Practitioner I’m now seeing, and some healthier habits and supplements.
According to Medical News Today , “Premenstrual dysphoric disorder is a severe form of premenstrual syndrome. It is considered a health condition that can benefit from treatment with lifestyle changes and sometimes medication.
Between 20 and 40 percent of women experience moderate to severe premenstrual symptoms (PMS). Between 3 and 8 percent of these experience symptoms that prevent them from functioning in normal daily life. This is premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD).
The difference between PMDD and premenstrual syndrome (PMS) is that the symptoms of PMDD are severe and debilitating. PMDD involves a set of physical and psychological symptoms that affect daily living and threaten the individual's mental wellbeing.
PMDD is a chronic condition that necessitates treatment when it occurs. Available treatments include lifestyle modifications and medication.”
Below is all the thoughts that went through my mind over a thirty minute period, that I decided to journal on.
If you find yourself also struggling, please get help. Feel free to reach out if you need someone to talk to. 💗
PREMENSTRUAL DYSPHORIC DISORDER
Here I am June 2, 2019, 5:15PM in my bed for the night. I have my diffuser next to me playing soft music and diffusing Palo Santo and White Angelica… mmmm heavenly. My two salt lamps are on and the sound of rain is all around me out the open windows. I must be so relaxed, huh? I wish that were the case. Instead, my pulse is 85 and fluctuating up and down and I’m nearing the end of a really bad PMDD day.
I once said that becoming paralyzed at 20 was the hardest thing I ever went through in my life. Then I had kids and I said that suffering with postpartum anxiety and depression was way harder than becoming paralyzed. Now it’s the 1-2 weeks every single month when my PMDD rages through my body that is the absolute hardest thing I’ve ever dealt with in my life.
Even with all of the relaxing smells, sounds, and vibe around me, my chest still feels like it’s trying to implode in on itself. My skin feels like it wants to melt away from my body, and my heart just pounds away in a sort of survival seeming kind of way. I can barely focus, nor tolerate much at all, and even though I carry no more responsibilities for the night (Thanks Dave!), any time I hear one of the kids yell about something or whine, I feel my heart rate climb. It’s now at 87 bpm. 85-87 actually isn’t that bad. At times when my anxiety is really raging through the roof, it has been known to frequently hit over 113!
I don’t have an official diagnosis yet, but myself, my husband, and my psychotherapist all agree it’s what’s going on. It’s only become a realization in the last two or three months, but thinking back, I think I’ve actually been struggling with it for a year or two! My therapist has recommended a doctor to me who is more holistic, because, if you’ve read my postpartum anxiety/depression story, you know that my body doesn’t handle antidepressants, anti anxiety, or artificial hormone medications well at all.
I wish I could lock myself in my bedroom or a hotel room alone for these two weeks every month. It’s so hard. I become so overwhelmed with too much stimulation, the littlest annoyances trigger such strong reactions within my body, and I get to the point where I feel like I can barely function. Of course as a stay at home mom, I still do need to function and the bare minimum does get done on the majority of these severe days. Now, I’m someone who taught meditation for a while. I was meditating every single day. I journal, I read angel and oracle cards, I use crystals and essential oils, I have two pendulums… but I have absolutely no idea how to “fix” myself and it’s so hard. I prided myself in being able to “fix” my postpartum depression with all of these things. Almost two years later and another disorder, and none of these things seem to work.
I feel like my husband has such a hard time “getting” it too which only makes it harder on me. Don’t get me wrong though, he’s an amazing guy. Someone who I definitely don’t credit enough or say “thank you” to enough. He’s so caring and compassionate. He wants nothing more in this world than to see me healthy and happy and I know that with all my heart. God bless him though, he’s been through hell with all of this.
As a young child I grew up learning how to always hide my pain from people. I rarely ever showed physical pain through all my surgeries from childhood through adulthood. I also did a really good job at always hiding my anxiety issues. I was first diagnosed with anxiety issues in my early 20s. Something that I’m pretty sure my parents don’t know. My anxiety was pretty manageable though for almost ten years, and then when I went off the birth control pill to have our first, my anxiety went away! It didn’t really come back again until my postpartum anxiety diagnosis four and a half years later.
Back to Dave, he’s been my rock. He’s been a shoulder to cry on more times than I’d like to admit. When I had postpartum anxiety and depression, it mainly came out as deep sadness and irritability. With my PMDD it comes out as anger and rage. I feel so sad for him, because I hold it all together around everyone we see out in public, but then at home or on the phone, it all comes out. Actually, it doesn’t all come out. What it truly feels like is that it builds and builds and builds up inside of me to the point of where it needs a release and he’s my “safety”. So it all comes out towards him. I don’t mean it. I don’t want it to. I certainly don’t ever want to hurt him. I truly don’t even realize it’s happening until after the fact. If I had it my way, I would show him love and admiration 24/7. Unfortunately, I don’t though. I didn’t choose this. I despise and hate PMDD more than anything. It makes me a horrible person, and doesn’t make me feel good at all. The feelings inside my body are so debilitating and horrible. It’s incredibly difficult to describe. I wish I knew how to better explain all of this to Dave and to others, but I don’t. I feel like sometimes I’m just not good with my words, or using the right words.
Well, it’s 5:45PM. It’s been half an hour. My heart rate is back down to 76. My computer battery is getting low and my book, “Girl, Stop Apologizing” by Rachel Hollis is next to me screaming my name. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. If by opening up I am able to help even just one woman out there also suffering, then this 30 minutes of time was totally well spent.
From My Heart,