Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

For several weeks now, I've been wanting to write another post about PMDD. Well, wanting isn’t really the word, but it’s been on my mind. The problem is, when you’re having an episode of PMDD, almost every thought you have is negative, so you don’t want to do it then, you'll just depress everyone with your negativity, and when you’re not having an episode of PMDD, PMDD is the last thing you want to think about. It’s like a bad dream you just want to forget.

But I had an episode yesterday, which reminded me of my intention to write about it. I’ve been lucky lately. This time last year, the episodes were coming regularly and lasting for what felt like forever. Weeks at a time. I spent the summer and fall changing my diet and seeing doctors and reading anything I could on the subject. I learned enough to make the episodes not last so long, and for a few months, they stopped altogether. What a blessing that was. But I also learned that each case is individual and what works for me might or might not work for someone else, so there’s no way I can sit here and tell you what you can do to ease your symptoms.

That’s the problem with PMDD. It affects every woman who has it differently, and even if you have two women with the exact same symptoms, the treatment for them won’t be the same. Mine, I found, was a fundamental nutritional issue. I had been trying to lose my pre-menopausal weight, and almost every diet plan out there says to cut down on carbs. Well, that won’t work for me. PMDD is caused by a drop in your serotonin level in the brain, and what do you need to keep that serotonin level up? Carbs!

So just about every diet out there is impossible for me. This used to frustrate me. Now I simply enjoy my carbs, knowing they are keeping me from experiencing a dip in my serotonin levels and therefore a day (or week) devoid of productivity. I do everything I can to make sure they’re whole-grain, healthy carbs, and that makes a huge difference in how I feel, but I can’t do without carbs altogether, and I can’t stick to the 15g of carbs per meal or whatever it is they recommend for losing weight.

The only way I’ll be able to lose weight is to exercise it off. So I’ve signed up for something at my Y called Walk 100 Miles in 100 Days. I don’t get there every day, but when I do, I walk two miles to keep on track. No weight loss yet, but I’ve walked 25 miles in three weeks, and my jeans are feeling a whole lot looser.

Anyway, yesterday I was in the throes of an episode of PMDD. It blew in like a bad storm around ten in the morning, and I struggled with it for the rest of the day. Wanting to weep for no reason, yawning and sighing constantly, craving carbs like crazy. I wasn’t hungry, I just wanted to EAT. The last thing I felt like doing was walking my two miles, but I made myself get out of the house and do it—and felt a whole lot better for it afterward. Prior to the walk, all I wanted to do was eat and sleep. Afterward, I felt more awake and alert, and was satisfied with just a salad. I did spend a great deal of time yesterday reading, but that was okay. Everyone deserves a break now and then.

Today I’m feeling much better, more optimistic and hopeful. Not that I wasn’t feeling optimistic and hopeful before. I’m naturally optimistic and hopeful. But yesterday, thanks to my PMDD, my natural optimism totally tanked. That’s what PMDD does to me. So you can imagine how, for years before I discovered what was happening—that my brain was experiencing a dip in my serotonin level due to my naturally fluctuating hormones—I simply thought I was going crazy. I mean, one day all is well in my world and I’m sailing along, as happy as can be, and the next—while nothing has changed in my situation or circumstances—suddenly everything is hopeless and pointless and I have no motivation or direction. It’s like some other being has come in and taken over my body. My body that just wants to eat and sleep all day. I call her The Alien.

So yesterday I didn’t give in. I knew what was happening and I wasn’t going to let her get the best of me. I would alter my activities, take it a little easier than usual, but continue to eat normally and get my exercise in, even though both were the last thing I felt like doing.

And today, because I didn’t give in to that Eeyore cloud of hopelessness and despair, I’m back on track again. Because once you give in, the hopelessness feeds upon itself, and the bad food choices you make (going for the sugar or caffeine) only mess with your body chemistry more, sending you on a roller coaster ride of insulin surges and emotions that leave you exhausted, mind, body, and soul.

Today, thanks to the moderation I practiced yesterday, life looks good again.

But it’s not easy to separate yourself from whatever unhealthy messages your serotonin-deprived brain is sending you. It takes a lot of energy and willpower. I’ve been saying willpower doesn’t work with PMDD, but to some extent it does. Sure, your body craves carbs—so give it some good ones. Sure, your body craves sleep—so take it easy and rest. But you don’t have to give in altogether and keep the cycle going. You can nip it in the bud by taking time out to take care of yourself, so that you’re better able to take care of all the other people and things in your life that need taking care of.

And now, I’m off to take care of those things. Got people coming over for dinner tonight and I need to get the house ready :). Fortunately, they are people who are well acquainted with my PMDD, so if by evening my energy is flagging, they will understand and we’ll have a great time anyway. They'll know it's not personal. All I have to do is open the door and say, “She’s back,” and they will know what/who I’m talking about. My PMDD. Aka The Alien.

I thank God for bringing such good friends into my life.

For those of you who have never heard of PMDD, the core symptoms are:

Markedly depressed mood, feelings of hopelessness, or self-deprecating thoughts
Marked anxiety, tension feelings of being “keyed up” or “on edge”
Marked affective lability, e.g., feeling suddenly sad or tearful, or increased sensitivity to rejection Persistent and marked anger or irritability or increased interpersonal conflicts

Other symptoms of PMDD

Decreased interest in usual activities, e.g., work, school, friends, hobbies
Difficulty concentrating
Marked fatigue
Marked change in appetite, overeating or cravings for specific foods
Hypersomnia or insomnia
Feeling overwhelmed or out of control
Physical symptoms, including headaches, breast tenderness and/or swelling, joint and/or muscle pain, a sensation of “bloating,” and weight gain

Women and Insanity

For the past six months, I've been doing research for a book on women's health, in particular PMDD, or Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, a biological/physiological condition that occurs in concert with a woman's menstrual cycle, and has, amid much controversy, been categorized in the DSM-IV as a mental disorder. I'm going to start sharing my findings here on Wellness Wednesdays, in the hopes of helping women who suffer from not only PMDD, but a host of other hormone-related issues (such as thyroid, menopause, PMS, post-partum depression, and countless others) realize that these issues are indeed biological in origin and not mental.

In short, no, you're not going crazy. Your hormones are simply out of whack. Week after week, I'm going to explain the various reasons why you feel the way you do. Why you think you're losing your mind, and why you're not. Better yet, I'm going to tell you what you can do to bring your hormones, and your life, back into balance.

We are blessed in that--while mainstream medicine for the most part continues to dismiss, discount, and ignore women's hormonal health concerns--the good news is it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be, as will be outlined by my guest blogger today, fellow Wild Rose Press author Loretta Rogers.

So thank you, Loretta, for helping me to kick this new direction for my blog off with a historical perspective on what in most cases were no doubt simply hormonal issues, if any imbalance was present at all. As you will see, sometimes all a man needed to commit a woman to the insane asylum was a desire to do so.

Because divorce was a rarity during the pioneer/frontier days, men devised other ways to get rid of unwanted wives and children, and that was by declaring them insane and placing this unwanted loved one in an insane asylum. Actually these early asylums were in reality prisons and not medical centers. These institutions were filthy, dark places where people were treated more like animals than human beings. The asylums usually provided only the basic necessities of life. Food was poor, cleanliness was not stressed and the rooms were often very cold. Diseases were quick to spread throughout the asylum.

Some of the reasons women were institutionalized are unbelievable. In the early 1800’s wives and daughters were often committed for not being obedient enough to their husbands or fathers. You’ve heard the term, “children are to be seen and not heard.” This applied to wives as well. If a woman spoke out and went against the “norm” she could be committed.

With no birth control, it wasn’t unusual for a woman to give birth to another baby while still nursing her last child. And a brood of six to twelve children wasn’t unusual either. With her body no longer firm and supple, her energy level somewhere between zero and double zero, and with the daily routine of cooking, cleaning, plowing, and all the other demands, a woman was run ragged. It’s no wonder she grew old long before her time.

All the husband and/or father had to do was simply write the word “lunacy” on the admission form. Lunacy was an acceptable reason for divorce. The woman’s husband would declare her insane, put her in the asylum and then file for the divorce. A few months later, his marriage records to a younger bride usually showed up.

Other reasons to be “put away”, were depression, alcoholism, just being a little different from the norm, and even going through menopause. Doctors just didn’t know how to deal with mental issues and the result was to put their patients in the asylum. These women were locked up and forgotten by their loved ones. The fathers/husbands often forbid the family members to visit. It was as if the wife or daughter had simply died. Most of these women did stay at the insane asylum until their death.

If a father had no sons, but didn’t want his daughter to inherit his fortune or worldly goods, he could have her declared insane, institutionalized, and leave his money to a favorite nephew or his ranch to a ranch hand he considered as a son. If a man’s wife had died in child birth and he couldn’t find a woman to wed who was willing to become a stepmother to his large brood, or if he couldn’t marry off any of his eligible daughters, he simply declared them as lunatics and placed them in an asylum. Sometimes daughters were committed for unwanted pregnancies. Other children were committed for being disobedient or for illnesses such as Down’s Syndrome or Autism. Being born deaf or mute, retarded or physically disfigured was another reason a child might be committed.

Oftentimes, the husband might tell others that his wife or child had died. If a newspaper office was available, he might even have an obituary printed. Yet the person was very much alive at the asylum. While it was rare for a sane person to be released from an asylum, it did happen. Imagine what it was like for this woman. Having been declared dead, she had no identity.

Some of these asylums were built next to, or part of, the prison system. This was to help cut back costs of care, food and facilities. Rape was prevalent in asylums. Because women had been declared insane, it was deemed they had no powers of reasoning, no feelings or emotions. In other words, they were considered walking zombies. Because of this deranged thinking, (no pun intended) prisoners and even asylum employees used the women for their own pleasures.

If you are into genealogy and have run into a brick wall trying to locate a female relative, the US census has a place on some of their census, example 1850, that had a place to mark if deaf, dumb or insane. The probate section may carry Lunacy Record Books at the county courthouses. Some Wills will declare if someone is insane or having lunacy. If someone seems to have disappeared, they may have been “sent away.”

Therefore, when we refer to the ‘good old’ days, we might remember these women and their lives, and be thankful that they paved the way for us.

Loretta C. Rogers. http://www.lorettacrogersbooks.com/

Isabelle and the Outlaw

On PMDD and Cravings -- and All Chocolate is Not Equal

I have no guest author scheduled for today, so you're stuck with me and what's on my mind :). So sit back, have some cyber chocolate and enjoy!

Having come freshly off a week of spending up close and personal time with The Alien, who kicked my butt so badly the last day she was here I had to take a three-hour nap in the middle of the day, on top of getting a full night’s sleep, today I feel uber-qualified to write about how it feels to experience PMDD. The thing is, now that the episode (aka her latest visit) is over, it’s the last thing I want to think about.

I look around and see all that didn’t get done over the last week, the laundry piling up, the floors that need to be cleaned, the clutter of all I didn’t feel up to coping with and simply set aside, and would much rather regain some semblance of control over my life--if only its external appearance--than write about the dark place I inhabited for eight full days and change this time around.

Why such a long visit this time? I think I know. I think it had something to do with the stress of travel, the staying up later than usual, sleeping in strange environments, the change in diet, the miniscule amount of alcohol consumed, although in comparison to my usual alcohol intake, it was a big jump. Let’s see…over the course of two weeks I had three beers, one glass of wine and a glass of Bailey’s Irish cream. More than I’ve had in the last 6 months, since the cruise, and more than I had in the year or so before that.

Still, it was a toxic substance my system isn’t used to. Add that to the copious amounts of caffeine I consumed during the conference and while on the road, the pasta-heavy fare at the conference, and I think I’m getting the picture. At home, I’m usually caffeine free—or close to it. No coffee, maybe a cup of caffeinated tea in the morning, if I feel the need, and chocolate only when “the cravings” come. And I hadn’t had pasta or bread in weeks before the conference.

Why? All of these are bad for women with PMDD, or anyone with a neurotransmitter imbalance. Caffiene, alcohol, sugar, flour, hence the bread and pasta. But why am I so sensitive to their effects? I know women who practically live on caffeine and sugar, others who drink freely, others who love their bread and pasta. Is it possible they feel as miserable as I do, or more so, but deny their misery and continue to self-medicate with food and drink?

Because attempts to self-medicate is what these addictions (for lack of a better word) are. My research is showing there are very few true physical addictions in life. Most compulsions are emotionally or psychologically based. Only in rare cases is an addiction physiological.

That’s not to say we can’t get cravings. But cravings are cravings, temporary urges for some kind of substance to relieve our mental, emotional, or physical discomfort. Cravings are not addictions, although when you are in the throes of one, it can feel like an addiction. But as someone writing a book on dealing with addiction recently pointed out to me, “You’re not going to stick a gun in someone’s face for a piece of cake.”

Cravings are the body’s signals that some physiological need is not being met. You’re low on some vital nutrient, to be exact. Your body is saying, for instance, “I’m low on magnesium,” and you feel a sudden urge to eat a banana, or some almonds, maybe some oatmeal, or, yes, some chocolate.

Chocolate is one of the best known substances we crave. What confuses the issue with chocolate is not only its physical healing properties (of which there are many), but its emotional associations. We associate chocolate with feeling good. But not all chocolate is equal. Some are better for us than others. Much better. Others are almost useless, physiologically speaking. In the example above, a banana would provide as much magnesium as a 1.5 ounce chocolate candy bar, but a handful of almonds or cashews would provide almost three times as much magnesium as either the banana or candy bar.

So why do we reach for the chocolate? It’s as much for the emotional fix as the nutrient needed. More confusion arises when we don’t know the difference between types of chocolate, due to the marketing and advertising claims of their manufacturers. Manufacturers is the key word here. Quality chocolates from true chocolatiers abound with the beneficial properties of chocolate. True dark chocolate is a rich source of flavanoids and antioxidants, with the cacao bean containing more than twice as many antioxidants the so-called superfoods like blueberries, kale, spinach or broccoli.

It’s the cheap, mass-marketed brands that--while they may contain miniscule amounts of chocolate’s beneficial properties—have processed most of the antioxidants and flavanoids right out of the chocolate. To derive any benefit from eating these lower quality chocolates, you need to eat way more than is healthy for you. When this happens, the negatives outweigh the positives—and you could end up outweighing all your friends.

If that’s not enough, did you know that adding milk to your chocolate, or even drinking milk with your chocolate totally nullifies its good effects?

Meanwhile you’re bewildered, thinking chocolate is supposed to be good for me, right? Milk is healthy for me. Isn’t that what the ads say? By eating chocolate and drinking milk, I’m doing something good for my body, right? So why do I feel so miserable?

Because all the chocolate in the world isn’t going to solve your problems, honey, and while I may crave it like mad at times, neither is it going to make my PMDD, or Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, go away. For all its mood-enhancing abilities, even the finest Belgian chocolate won’t “cure” dysphoria.

Dysphoric is the opposite of euphoric. Euphoric means happy, dysphoric means depressed. As in depression. But only pre-menstrually, which I suppose can be considered a blessing.

In some atypical cases, however, the dsyphoria can come AFTER a woman begins her period. Lucky me, I’m atypical. Mine usually starts on Day 3, if it’s going to come. It doesn’t always come. Which is what drives me batty, trying to keep on top of what I need to do--or to avoid--to keep it from returning. I lead too full and rich a life to keep being knocked flat by this unwelcome change in my body. It makes me feel like I’m constantly behind—on everything.

As women, we all know “it will never all get done,” but to have something come along and steal a full week or more out of your month, something that no matter what you do or don’t do seems to be totally beyond your control…it’s more than frustrating. It’s crazymaking.

I’m here to tell you you’re not crazy. I’m here to tell you there are scientifically proven physiological reasons for why you crave the things you do—like carbs--and what happens to your body as a result of that. I’m here to tell you there’s help, and hope, but it’s far from easy, living in a body that seems to have a will of its own at times, and a manufacturing and marketing culture that promotes unhealthy foods as healthy because of their base ingredients, while completely ignoring the toxic effects of their processing processes.

That said, the first step is to forgive yourself for falling short of your own expectations, and to understand that what is happening to you is as involuntary a response as an allergic reaction. You can not control it. You can try to mitigate it, to be sure, by living a universally healthy lifestyle, once you understand what that truly is, but you can not control it.

Nor can you deny it and simply plow through it, as most women do. We have commitments, responsibilities, schedules and deadlines. We have people counting on us to be there for them.

But first, we have to learn how to be there for ourselves.

More on this, when I get a chance.