I always considered myself fortunate to have never struggled with my mental health. There was even a running joke amongst my family that I had lucked out and been handed "the shiny gold Pokemon card of no mental health conditions." I never remember feeling any particular stress or worry during secondary school and sixth form despite the fact that I was always incredibly desperate to succeed and be graded highly. I seemed to take absolutely everything in stride, thriving off the buzz of long hours studying, and the nerves that came with sitting for two-hour exams. 

So when the time came to go to university, I don't recall feeling anything other than excitement. I've always been eager to make friends and the thought of living away from home for the first time, drinking, dancing, and laughing constantly with new friends boosted my mental health, if anything. But during my second year, a close family member became severely ill. Instead of laughter, worry became my constant. This worry combined with the stress of coursework and revision, floored me. I suffered persistent stomach pains, nausea, and acid reflux that never seemed to disappear despite every pill my doctor prescribed. I lost any sense of appetite and ate only because I knew I needed to, only to find myself throwing the food back up an hour later. In truth, I was miserable, but still trying to keep up the façade that I was managing to my boyfriend and best friends. I must have attended about 15 doctor’s appointments that year, often in tears begging them to perform every test under the sun and prescribe new medication to 'fix me.'

Looking back on that time of my life still makes me feel sad and I hate that I suffered for so long during a year that should have been filled with fun memories and only the typical work-related breakdowns in the library. I now realise that what I was going through most likely wasn't physical, but a mental reaction to an incredibly unhappy and stressful time of my life. In short, I was suffering from raging anxiety and due to my 'shiny gold Pokemon card,’ I just didn't recognise, or want to recognise it. Fortunately, my loved one recovered and I came through it and began to enjoy life and food again. I graduated, went traveling around Europe, and then moved to Bristol to be with my boyfriend. I was ready to enter the world of post-university adulthood.

My life in Bristol settled into a routine and the memories of the misery I felt during my second year at university were shelved in the very deepest corners of my mind. Life continued, I made amazing new friends, moved jobs, and fell in love with the vibrancy of city living and my new life. 

About a year into living in Bristol I came off the contraceptive pill, sick of all the side effects. Some contraceptive pills gave me headaches and acne all over my back and others made me feel so genuinely 'bleurgh' that I felt my body deserved a break. After being artificial hormone-free for a few months, I vividly remember waking up one morning, getting in the shower, and thinking "What if this life isn't what you want anymore?" I can still feel the huge rush of adrenaline that went straight to my head as utter panic set in. Where I had felt confident in my job, my relationship, and my life goals before, I now felt nothing but dread and genuine, physical revulsion at the choices I had made to bring me to that point in my life. For the very first time, I stopped and thought to myself "I am not okay. Is this what poor mental health feels like?" 

I tried desperately to push those horrible mid-shower thoughts away and carry on with my life. I slapped on a smile and tried to keep up appearances. I couldn't bring myself to talk about my thoughts with my boyfriend or friends because honestly, I did not want them to be true. I had loved my life and had felt incredibly proud of my achievements and the person I was becoming. But after that point I began to regularly participate in mental slanging matches with myself, arguing and pushing back against the horrible thoughts that told me "Imposter!" and "That love you feel for your boyfriend, your friends, your life in general? Yeah, that's not real." The thoughts became so bad that they quite literally consumed my every waking minute. 

Every day, I’d work a full eight hours on auto-pilot, come home, get into my dressing gown, then sit on the sofa and sob until bedtime. I became irritable and would snap at the slightest inconvenience, avoiding meeting up with my friends and isolating myself from my boyfriend despite living in the same flat. I was pushing everyone I loved away and breaking my own heart in the process all whilst continuing to argue with my brain any chance I got. How could I have looked at this wonderful man a few weeks prior and felt nothing but love but now, any slight glance at him filled me with agony and a repetitive train of "You don't love him," "You're a liar," "Get out now!" crashing around my head? How could I have previously anticipated seeing my friends with excitement but would now desperately think of one million excuses as to why I wasn't able to see them? Looking back, those initial few weeks all blurred into one and I still don't fully remember them.

Google became my best friend during this time period. I would spend hours every evening searching all manner of phrases. I think I must have typed 'fallen out of love with life/friends/boyfriend' into the search bar about three hundred times, scrolling endlessly through websites looking for a cure to what was going on in my head. It was here that I first began to read about OCD and the different ways in which this would manifest. I'd only ever really heard about OCD in passing and naively associated it with meticulously organising pencils in a straight line and flicking light switches on and off. Reading through the symptoms felt like a lightbulb moment in my head as I ticked off every single one:

• Obsessions – where an unwanted, intrusive, and often distressing thought, image, or urge repeatedly enters your mind

• Emotions – the obsessions cause a feeling of intense anxiety or distress

• Compulsions – repetitive behaviours or mental acts that a person with OCD feels driven to perform as a result of the anxiety and distress caused by the obsession

I was obsessing over every single intrusive thought that entered my mind. The idea that I might lose everything I loved was so distressing to me that it was causing the most unimaginable anxiety. I would google incessantly to find relief in the form of articles that reassured me I wasn't losing my mind, only to be back on the same webpage fifteen minutes later when the relief started to fade. Finding that OCD webpage was a turning point and I remember making a doctor’s appointment the next day. Finally, I had an answer. I wasn't insane. I felt recognised and I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in those horrendous few weeks.

After a few doctor’s appointments through the NHS, I realised the help I needed was more readily available through a private doctor’s surgery. I feel blessed that this was something I was financially able to afford and I most definitely wouldn't have been able to do it without the help and support of my, probably at his wit’s end, boyfriend. I met a fantastic female doctor who listened to me and diagnosed me with OCD, reassuring me that this was something I could battle with a combination of medication, therapy, and time. She also encouraged me to keep track of my cycle, suspicious that perhaps hormones were playing a larger part than originally thought. 

After a few months of unpredictable highs and lows, tons of crying, and a 50mg prescription of sertraline, I found myself back at the doctors once again. Although the sertraline had made the OCD more manageable, I still couldn't put my finger on why I would feel okay one week and then tumble back into darkness the next. She reviewed the cycle log I had been keeping for months and gently told me she suspected I was also suffering from something called PMDD. A hormone-related condition, PMDD is a severe form of PMS that begins one to two weeks before your period starts. It is characterised by certain symptoms - 

• Lasting irritability or anger that may affect other people

• Feelings of sadness or despair, or even thoughts of suicide

• Feelings of tension or anxiety

• Panic attacks

• Mood swings or crying often

• Lack of interest in daily activities and relationships

• Trouble thinking or focusing

• Tiredness or low energy

• Food cravings or binge eating

• Trouble sleeping

• Feeling out of control

• Physical symptoms, such as cramps, bloating, breast tenderness, headaches, and joint or muscle pain

I found that I identified with nearly every single symptom and at last, the constant rollercoaster of feeling up one minute and down the next began to make sense. Having this diagnosis was sliiiiightly bittersweet in a way, as although it helped me to get a better grip on what was happening to me, there is no conventional cure. There hasn't been a hell of a lot of research about the condition either (I blame the patriarchy) so most treatments are trial and error. Some women achieve great results with antidepressants, others with hormone replacement and contraceptive pills that stop ovulation, and other women manage best with a combination of dietary changes and vitamin supplements. I've spoken to women who swear that avoiding coffee, alcohol, and sugar is the way forward, but why would I want to make my life any more miserable?! The general consensus, however, was that this condition doesn't really 'go away,’ rather it’s something you manage ongoing. PMDD and OCD. I knew I was in for a tough ride.

My OCD and PMDD diagnoses were about a year and a half ago and I am in a completely different place now to where I was then. I struggled through a master’s degree in the midst of my diagnosis, a job change, and a house purchase and I am still alive to tell the tale. I eventually came off the sertraline. Although it calmed down the frantic obsessive thoughts, it made me feel like an extra in 28 Days Later and incredibly disconnected from my relationships. Not ideal when trying to rebuild and strengthen bonds with people! I'll always be grateful for how it got me through those initial few months, but I knew it was best for me that I faced my thoughts rather than suppress them. 

So here I am today, plodding on and still trying to figure out what works for me. I went vegan in January 2020 which I strongly believe has helped with the bloating and lethargy and I upped my vitamin intake, including evening primrose oil. I joined two really great Reddit communities for PMDD and OCD sufferers and I can't even express how helpful this has been in reminding me daily that I am not alone or insane. I'm eating healthier, attempting to get more exercise, and trying to spend more time outdoors. I still have days (weeks even) where it is so incredibly difficult to drag myself out of bed. There are times where the thought of showering and getting dressed is exhausting, and deciding what to cook for dinner is like maneuvering through a really thick, unrelenting fog. I most definitely still deal with daily thoughts that my life is a pile of shit, my boyfriend is the most irritating man to have walked the planet and my friends hate me. But on those days, and during those exhausting, foggy moments, I remind myself that I'm no longer curled up on the sofa in my dressing gown, sobbing and wishing my life would end.

I wanted to write this and share my experience with OCD and PMDD to remind anyone who happens to stumble across this who is also suffering that things do indeed get better. I know when you've sunk to the absolute bottom of the pit of despair that sounds like a really crap and patronising slogan you read on a shitty leaflet handed to you by your doctor. But it is true, and it will always be true. I want to be realistic and tell you that although I have laughed and made memories and had genuine moments of happiness over these last two years, I have also sobbed, slapped a grin on for photos when I literally felt like I would never smile again, and been dragged on walks when all I wanted to do was lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. I still battle daily with intrusive thoughts and some weeks it is so incredibly difficult to deal with them. Other days, however, I'll look at the clock and realise I have made it to 2 pm without a single negative thought floating through my head.

There is no definitive way to define your success in battling any mental health condition and it is impossible to put an end date on when exactly you'll start to feel 'better.' Any small step you can make, whether it is admitting you need help or going for a walk when all you want to do is sleep for days, is a huge step forward in the right direction. Walking into the doctors for the first time is terrifying, popping that first anti-depressant is even more so. But it is necessary and brave and you are soooo badass for doing it. Refuse to be a prisoner to your thoughts and take pride in doing things that absolutely scare the shit out of you. Always remember that the road to recovery is rarely straightforward, but it is always always worth it. 

Thanks for reading! Courtney x

MEET COURTNEY

My name is Courtney, I'm 26 and live in Bristol, UK. I was diagnosed with PMDD and OCD about two years ago and have been living with it since. I've recently started my own blog 'The Happiness Journal' in an attempt to record, and take back control over my own life. My main aim is to help other women feel less alone and raise awareness for this horrendous condition that is also waaaay more common than many think.