"I Cured My PMDD"

I've been wanting to write this piece for some time, but I haven't been quite sure how to approach it. It's a sensitive thing. But I think it needs to be said, so here goes. There is a tendency in our community (that being women with PMDD) to get very...perhaps overly...enthusiastic about our discoveries.

I've watched this over the last three years of being part of many different forums and groups. This definitely isn't about any one person. Only you know if this may pertain to you or not, and even if it does, there's no judgment here. Honestly, it happens so often, that it doesn't really matter when I publish this. Someone is bound to take it personally.

You know the posts; we've all seen them, may even have written them ourselves. I can't judge because I have!

I've gone two months now with no symptoms! The [fill in the blank] is working!! I've finally cured my PMDD!!!

Not surprisingly, these posts are usually followed up a month or so later with:

I thought I beat this thing! I feel like total shit. I hate my life. I hate PMDD.

If it wasn't so sad, it would be funny...or is that vice versa?

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad women are taking the bull by the horns and trying everything they can to help themselves. I'm glad women are changing their diets, taking supplements, experimenting with different meds and dosages, and implementing some new therapy or regimen. Yes! Good! That's exactly what it takes! Nor am I saying that there aren't genuine improvements made, felt and lived.

What makes me wince is two-fold:

1. What happens to that hope-filled woman when all that euphoria evaporates during a bad month? Does she hate herself even more? Does she feel stupid for having proclaimed something so loudly...another reason to hate herself? Does she ever recant her statement or just pretend like it never happened?
2. What happens to "the rest of us" women who believe someone has found the miracle? How do we feel when everything we try does not equal the same profound improvement? Do we envy? Do we share in celebration? Do we secretly roll our eyes thinking, "Talk to me in another six months?"

I'm just wondering, because I don't really think I'm alone in asking these questions. I'm wondering why so many fall into the premature miracle proclamations. It is perhaps our desperation to feel in control, our deepest longing to be well? Does it set us and others up to feel worse or give us hope?

I'm not saying we shouldn't share our discoveries and experiments. We most definitely need to. I'm just saying that we need to be a bit more mindful in how we present things and perhaps do so with a greater awareness of the tendency for moving backwards, for our own sakes as much as anyone else's.

We all know the cycles. Feeling good for two months vs. feeling good for six months vs. feeling good for a year or more are very, very different things. What has worked for even six months doesn't always work that seventh month, and so on.

I know it is hard not to feel excited over our triumphs and want to share that, and we should. Good months are something to absolutely celebrate! And let's also stay aware and compassionate to the fact that this shit is unpredictable and requires multiple facets of self-management, sometimes right through menopause.

In my own experience, it takes constant vigilance month after month, good month to bad month and back again and a very large portion of difficult, individualized inner work to keep from teetering over my edges. There are genuine improvements among us and symptoms can be managed, no question and no debate there. But these successes rarely come down to one or two little things, universally.

In the end, this condition is a one-size-fits-one. Treating it requires continuing trial and error and ongoing compassion for self. What works miracles for one person doesn't necessarily work miracles for another. And what worked miracles before can often leave us in the lurch in the future.

There. I said it needed to be said. And it has been. I'd love to hear what you think.