The Weird, Cumbersome Monster that Comes Uninvited
I am Francesca, Italian by birth and a worldwide citizen by experience. Seven years ago, my husband and I decided to move to the UK, driven by our natural curiosity to explore the world. We wanted a new life experience and were excited about the opportunities ahead.
In 2017 I became a mum and, since then, my life has been transformed in every single way. After my beautiful daughter’s birth, I was so confused and overwhelmed that I did not truly realise what was happening around me. I’m not sure if it was the birth trauma I had experienced and the resulting PTSD or the lack of sleep and time for myself, but I spent the first six months in a sort of limbo, not being completely present. In the beginning, I thought it was normal: after all, I was a new mum, I had no support because all of my (and my husband’s) family lived in Italy, and my life had been turned completely upside-down.
They say: “It takes a village to raise a child,” and there is a reason for that!
A year went by, and I got my period back. From then, things only got worse. I couldn’t regain my energy or vitality. I was always tired, beyond any normal limits. I experienced huge levels of fatigue, memory loss, abnormal migraines; my brain was constantly foggy. I was losing my interest in any daily activity, even those things that I used to enjoy the most. Some days were better; others were unbearable. Some days I felt the need to sleep as never before in my life; I could literally fall asleep on the sofa while playing with my little baby girl or while walking through the aisle of the supermarket.
Waves of depression and anxiety depleted me from the inside, leaving me feeling hopeless.
I felt something was wrong with me but didn’t relate my discomfort to my period. I kept blaming motherhood for the tiredness and fatigue; the ‘baby brain’ for the memory loss and the brain fog; the birth trauma for the anxiety and depression. However, there was one thing I could not find any explanation for... a sudden and new feeling that I had never experienced in my life before, a feeling that I didn’t know how to manage and get rid of, a stranger that I struggled to name. Then I figured it out: it was RAGE!
I had always been a quiet and patient person, always thinking before speaking out loud, and very rarely having irrational fits of anger. Not that I had never gotten angry or felt irritable (I am human, after all!), but I had always had control over my emotions and found a way to calm down.
Well, this was not the case anymore. And I had no idea what the hell was happening to me! One day I felt so peaceful and like an angel; the next one, I suddenly turned into a crazy devil for insignificant or no reason at all, and I could not explain why. All of a sudden I felt like a fire was burning in my chest and felt the need to scream and explode.
My husband hardly recognised me and struggled to understand. It was new to him too. Some days (or even weeks) I was fine, and when things seemed to go in the right direction... boom! I exploded in a completely irrational burst of anger.
The rage and the anger were definitely the two elements that convinced me that something was not right with me. They were not part of me, and I felt like someone else had taken over my body and mind, and I had no control over them.
The discovery
Then, one night, I had my lightbulb moment totally by chance. I was in bed scrolling through Facebook, and my attention was captured by a thread in a mums’ group. They were talking about feeling tired, depressed, and uncontrollably angry about everything...wow! That sounded like me! I kept following the thread and, at some point, one of them mentioned PMS and PMDD. Everybody seemed to know the meaning of these acronyms I’d never seen before, so I googled them.
PMDD = Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I had no idea what it could be. Wikipedia gave me the answer. As I read through the definition and the list of symptoms, I was blown away. I had every single symptom on that list: not just a few – all of them! And for the first time, I had found a single condition covering all the discomforts I was experiencing.
Was PMDD the answer I had been eagerly searching for over the past months? I honestly believed so...
I was not sure how to feel: confused, relieved, or worried. I certainly remember feeling a huge sense of accomplishment: all of the questions and doubts, all of my discomforts, had a name now. After months and months of guessing and researching, of doubting myself and thinking I was crazy, after all of that time, I had arrived at a conclusion. And I knew inside myself that PMDD was the answer. My instinct spoke out loud for the first time in a while.
At that point, I had given a name to my multitude of unpleasant symptoms; I had found resources and guidelines to use and follow. All I needed was a proper diagnosis by a medical professional. Therefore, I tracked my symptoms for the following two cycles, to prove the cyclic nature and have evidence to bring to my GP to get a PMDD diagnosis.
MY FIRST (BAD) EXPERIENCE WITH MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS
Going to the GP was my first (and not last) bad experience with a medical professional during my PMDD warrior career. He dismissed me very quickly (after googling PMDD himself!) by saying that there were only three options available to me:
the combined pill – which he could not prescribe to me because of my migraines
CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) – which would have taken a few months to get an appointment for
SSRI (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor) – which was the easy and quick option immediately available
I left the GP surgery with my new prescription, which promised an SSRI would be my salvation. I was puzzled and confused. I didn’t know if I should be happy to finally have treatment or feel defeated instead. I felt hurt and not taken seriously; my feelings and emotions had been diminished. I felt stupid, terribly stupid. My daily symptom tracker had been useless; the GP didn’t even look at it! I know now that there is a proper name for this: GASLIGHTING!
The relapse
October 2019 was one of the hardest months of my PMDD life: an unbearable and uncontrollable PMDD crisis led me to take some time off work. I had taken off a day or two during my previous cycles when I couldn’t face the idea of staring at a screen, replying to emails and calls, meeting clients, and talking to people. But this time, it wasn’t a normal crisis, it was one of the worst ever, so I went to my GP asking to be signed off work for two weeks. I remember feeling so guilty, like committing fraud. In fact, I had never taken a day off unless I was really in pain or physically impaired. I knew that I was not well and couldn’t cope further, but strangely, I had this belief that my pain not being visible made it less valid...
I thought in two weeks I would have been able to fix myself or, at least, I would have got some time to breathe and relax. What a naive thought! Back to work, and after a few days, I found myself in the same dark place I was in three weeks earlier. My body had already given up giving me any sort of signals and asking for help. Signals that I totally ignored until it was too late. My mind was so stubborn and blind that I didn’t see the limit and crossed it. Then it gave up too. I had undergone unsustainable levels of stress for too long, and both my body and mind protested.
Sunday night, 10th November 2019. I told my husband that I would not go to work that week. He asked me if I wasn’t feeling good and wanted to take another day off. I replied, “NO. I won’t take a day off. I will take a month, or two, or three, or more... I don’t know how long it will take, but I am broken. I am completely broken.”
That Sunday night, I admitted that I needed help for the first time ever. I have never been good at asking for help, and I didn’t know how to do it honestly. But I knew I could not go on like that, and something had to change. I knew that it would be a huge turmoil, a steep journey, a bloody fight with (and against) myself. But it was time; it could not wait anymore.
The beginning of my PMDD healing journey
ACCEPTANCE
When I first found out I had PMDD, I threw myself headlong into “Doing” mode without giving it a second thought, without thinking of what I felt. I had skipped an essential step: ACCEPTANCE.
I naively believed I could manage it independently without asking for help. I could take my symptoms under control: all I had to do was follow the guidelines, try the treatments, and eventually, I would find one that worked for me and fixed that bloody thing. I could do it on my own; I didn’t need to bother family and friends. After all, it wasn’t the first time I was in a difficult situation; I had done it before. But I was wrong, totally wrong! Oh my god, was I wrong!!! No one can go through this alone, and no one should.
I had completely underestimated PMDD, and the monster made its voice heard louder.
At that point, I realised that there was one missing link in my recovery ladder, and its name was acceptance. After six months, I had not taken time to check on how I was feeling, and I had not accepted my condition yet. I couldn’t bear that it was happening to me (why me?). I couldn’t bear to live half my life. I couldn’t bear to lose my job, my marriage, my relationships. All my certainties were crumbling. I was crumbling, falling apart... piece by piece. I couldn’t bear all the other people going forward while I felt like I was going further and further back. I was jealous. My already low self-esteem fell down underground.
It took me a while to accept my PMDD, but that was the first essential step of my healing journey.
I am not sure at which point I started to accept it, but I believe that it all began when I introduced two magic words in my daily life: self-awareness and self-compassion. Through them, I learned how to acknowledge my feelings and emotions, needs and desires, and take time for myself when I most needed it without feeling shame or guilt.
Acceptance is unstable, though: you think you got it, but then a crisis comes, and it wobbles again. You have to check on it sometimes, and that’s fine. It doesn’t make you weaker, far from it! It strengthens your self-awareness.
Two other things have helped me accept my PMDD. The first has been connecting to the fantastic PMDD community made of strong women on a similar journey. Reading and sharing experiences has made me feel heard, understood, and not alone. The second has been writing my blog; sharing my personal experience and helping other women give a sense to it. It can’t all be for nothing! I feel like I channel my pain into something positive.
NAVIGATING THE STORM
The beginning of the journey was steeper than I thought: it started with the worst two months of my PMDD life.
Due to my excruciating migraines, I could not take the combined pill, so I was advised to start the POP (Progestogen-Only Pill) as a first-line treatment for PMDD. This would block ovulation from happening and, with it, the PMDD symptoms. Well, little did I know I was so highly sensitive to progesterone, which I found out after two horrendous months on the pill! Depression and anxiety took me even lower.
After the failure of the POP, that year was all about trial and error. CBT, a nutritionist, supplements, SSRIs, blood and urine tests (and lots of money too!). All of them obviously supported by yoga, meditation, essential oils, improved sleep quality, etc.
Eventually, I took a whole year off work, in the middle of which there was also an unexpected global pandemic. When I first decided to take some time off to take care of myself, I deeply believed I was being weak. I considered myself a failure for not being able to cope and having to ask for help. A clear sign of weakness... at least, this is what I was brought up to believe since I was a young girl. Then, a good friend of mine told me I had been brave for recognising my limits and taking time to look after myself. She said it was not an easy thing to do, and it took courage to do so. I remember being speechless. I had never considered the situation from that point of view. I had always been hard on myself, set high standards, and seen myself as a failure for not achieving them. That conversation was a turning point for me as I started changing my point of view and practising what, later on, I found out to be a necessary ingredient for my healing journey... self-compassion.
Thanks to the amazing PMDD community, I could regain trust and confidence and see the light at the end of the tunnel. A community made of fantastic women who are on the same journey, who share their stories, their ups and downs, and constantly support each other unconditionally.
My journey has not ended yet. As I walk along the bumpy path of it, I try different things, I go through the ups and downs, and I discover new things about myself. I am conscious that it is a very long and steep journey, but I am also conscious of how much my body, mind, and spirit were disconnected initially, and how far I have come since then.
MEET FRANCESCA
Hi! I am Francesca mum to my adorable little girl, Maya, and a PMDD warrior
Since having my daughter, I have been on a long rollercoaster journey and have gained a new perspective on life. It has made me aware of what really matters for me and what I want and love in my life.
Two years ago, I found out I had PMDD and, since then, I have been walking my personal healing journey. As I walk along the bumpy path of it, I try different things, I go through the ups and downs, and I discover new things about myself. I am conscious that it is a very long and steep journey, but I am also conscious of how much my body, mind, and spirit were disconnected initially, and how far I have come since then.
You can follow Francesca on her blog and on Instagram @the_petite_blogger