What Season Are You?

There I sat, frozen, with unfamiliar faces staring at me, waiting for me to answer the most difficult and complex ice breaker of a question anyone could have asked at this leadership conference: “Which season best describes your personality?” I awkwardly laughed. “On what day?” I asked back. (I’m happy to say I got some laughs for my joke, but sadly it wasn’t really a joke at all.) Which season describes me best? How much time did these people have? Reading the room I gave some BS answer about the first season that popped in my head: “Summer, like my sunny & happy self,” but I so desperately wanted to share that I couldn’t pick just one. Because like seasons change throughout a year, I too change every single month and so do 1 out of every 20 women.

Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) is a hellish disease that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It makes a home in my body when I never asked it to visit. It changes everything about me from the way I speak and think down to how I work, eat, and sleep. It’s a strain on my relationships with everyone - my parents, siblings, significant other, best friends, new friends, bosses, etc., and even more so, my relationship with myself. Everything is different. Harder. Unbearable even. And then… it’s gone and I’m back to being the only one home. I am ME again. I can breathe again. I can go about my life and not feel like there’s something trying to pull me into this deep, dark hole. Every month that I “survive” the symptoms of PMDD, I think (or hope) that this will go away... for good. That maybe this time will be the last time. But I know deep down, in a few short weeks the hell will return.

I was thankfully diagnosed with PMDD in 2016 by my Navy Doc. I say “thankfully” because many women deal with this for many, many years without ever being able to put a name to their symptoms. To know what is “wrong” with me is something that I will never take for granted. I was working in a very stressful environment when I was diagnosed with PMDD, onboard a Naval vessel as a Surface Warfare Officer. To have the thoughts I was having and symptoms I was feeling is unfortunately not all that uncommon in the type of work we do. What was uncommon, however (that I didn’t realize at the time) was that my symptoms were not happening all of the time. While my stressors were constant, my stress was not. Tasks and problems that drove me over the edge some days, were a walk in the park on other days. It was very difficult at the time to understand what was happening to me. What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I thinking clearly? Why couldn’t I make decisions like I normally could? Why was I keeping to myself and having social anxiety about talking to and meeting new people when I’m the person who normally wants to meet everyone? Why was I having severe suicidal thoughts when my life was everything that I prayed for it to be? (I should preface this by saying that my call sign at the time - a nickname often used in the aviation communities in the military- was ‘Happy’.) Because I was happy. Half the time. But on the morning that my ship chaplain asked me how I was doing - the question that would change my life forever and could quite possibly be the reason I am still here today - I looked at him exhausted at hiding. I couldn’t be happy anymore. I was so tired of pretending to be happy on the days that I couldn’t be further from that. My answer to his question made him put down his coffee immediately and take me down to medical where my secrets of suicidal thoughts would no longer remain to just myself. I finally had to surrender. Because I knew that I needed some help.

It’s been 6 years since that day. I would love to say that I’ve got this whole PMDD thing figured out by now, but that’s not entirely true. While I am currently in a state where PMDD is manageable and I have found tools and a lifestyle that works for me, I don’t have it all figured out. And just when I think I do, it comes at me stronger than ever.

Through trial and error, and hours upon hours of research online, I have found several things to be staples in my wellness and daily life now: journaling, waking up early and going for a walk away from my phone, yoga, breathing practices, activities that force me to be creative such as photography or writing, canceling activities from my social calendar, surrounding myself with loved ones, and adjusting my diet and supplements. I don’t do these things every day, although I try to. I do, however, try my very best to track my cycle so that I know 7-10 days prior to starting my period that I NEED to be incorporating 90% of these daily habits into my schedule. It is insane to see the difference in my reaction to Hell Week during the months that I am taking proper care of myself and doing these things versus when I’m not. When I’m not, I am anxious. I am uptight. I am not myself. I have suicidal thoughts. What started out as things that work for me are now crucial things for me to do each month for me to survive and thrive. So that me and my friends and family are not completely devastated by PMDD.

I’ve also been cycle syncing the past year and it’s made a huge difference. I read both “Woman Code” and “Flo Living” by Alisa Vitti. Her story and science behind women’s health and educating women on our bodies have been instrumental to my diagnosis and how I have coped with PMDD. Every woman, a PMDD warrior or not, should read these two books! As my boyfriend recently said to me, women should look at their menstrual cycles as a superpower, not a burden. And he’s so right! If we are cycle syncing and using our bodies in rhythm with how God designed them to be, we really have a beautiful advantage; we truly are such powerful creatures.

I’ve asked God “Why me?” more times than I should. I can’t help but think though that He’s allowed this darkness over me because He KNOWS that I love to share, help, and educate others in any possible way. I have tried many things to “fix” me only to realize that I will most likely never be fixed. It’s taken a lot of really, really terribly hard days to know that that’s ok. Only because what I have learned, through much trial and error, is that living with PMDD doesn’t have to define who I am or make me less of anything. In fact, in recent years and months, it’s become something I’m most proud of myself. Even more so, it’s made me an all-around better, kinder person. Because on my worst days - the days I don’t feel like myself in even the slightest - I can look around the world with almost these special glasses on that others don’t get to see through, and see that everyone is hurting and struggling from something. It is my monthly reminder that we could all use a little more love and kindness in our lives. That smile to a stranger, a “good morning” to a coworker, or that phone call to a friend. We truly never know what those around us are going through - even the people we love most.

If I ever get asked again which season best describes me, I will proudly say ALL OF THEM, as each phase in the menstrual cycle ironically aligns so well with the classic four different seasons in a year. And instead of being frustrated that I can’t be just one season anymore, I’ve come to appreciate the complexity and beauty of it all. I am proud to be all of them. I am proud of me.

Sharing my story has given me a greater purpose. I never want another woman to think she’s weird, different, or “crazy” because she doesn’t understand what is happening to her monthly. Hormonal health IS mental health and I will spend the rest of my life sharing my story so others can share theirs.