TWo weeks

I check my menstrual cycle app whilst holding my breath. Day 12. In two days’ time, like clockwork, my life will turn completely upside down for two weeks. Two weeks exactly and not a day more, after which I will spend the following two weeks picking up the pieces. This pattern will repeat itself until I get help

It’s weird to have depression and despair in your line of sight, coming straight at you like a fast-moving train, whilst knowing you can’t move out of the way. This experience, what I affectionately call ‘my two-week appointment with depression’, was entirely new and unprecedented for me. It lasted for most of 2021, peaking in the summer. It’s now come back with a vengeance, punishment for over confidence and coming off treatment.

So, here’s how it goes: In the two weeks before my period arrives, the switch will flick, and life becomes out of control, and incredibly confusing. I suddenly find everyday activities difficult to complete. I cry almost every single day for no reason.

I have no desire to speak to anyone. I often come to negative conclusions. I’m a serial diarist and no amount of self-reflective journaling and meditation can help balance my perspective.

Last year when it first reared its head, my life around cycling took a toll. I looked at my bike with dread and consistently turned down invitations to ride with my mates. It didn’t help that I had a back injury to also contend with. I didn’t ride my bike for almost 4 months from July to October. That was a hard one to accept as I was at peak fitness in cycling, getting my legs warmed up to racing. To top things off, I ate like an Olympic cyclist, and I had gained a lot of weight. Why couldn’t all this have hit me in the winter?

Then, on day 28 without fail, all of that goes away. I don’t know many women who get excited about getting their periods. I do. It's a massive celebration and relief. It means life can go back to normal, except I will have about two weeks of this to savour before my next appointment with darkness.

Before I had first experienced these dreaded two-week appointments with depression, I couldn’t understand what was going on with me and why. Should I just chalk this up to insane hormone fluctuations? Is this part of turning 40? Is this some kind of freak PMS? Whatever it was, I was so shaken by the ongoing ebbs and flows of this experience that I sought to find answers from numerous doctors.

I learned then that I suffer from premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) which is an extreme form of PMS that’s now officially classified as a depressive disorder. I heard it once called ‘PMS with a vengeance’. It’s rare and not much studies have been conducted on it yet. You must have about five the eleven or so PMDD symptoms to be diagnosed. I had all of them. Experts are not yet able to understand why some women experience it.

But having a diagnosis was in many ways a profound relief. It explained so much! PMDD is not widely discussed, and I suppose that’s one of the reasons why I wanted to share this story on ASCND. I’ve claimed a role in helping to lead Steezy Collective rides in partnership with The New Normal and ASCND this year. In a way, I felt compelled to share this given my active role.

I had been getting treatment for PMDD. I’ve taken the naturopathic answer to anti-depressants and progesterone supplements (feel free to reach out to me directly if you’re interested to know more). It is helping me keep this strange, punctual appointment with depression and despair at bay. I relaxed treatment a few months ago thinking all was OK. Then it came back. Hard. So, I still dread day 14, and I still check my cycle and take my pills like a fastidious accountant at year-end.

I’m not sure if my story will resonate with you. Perhaps strands of it will whether you have ovaries or not. As we gradually normalise speaking up about mental health, I think it’s important to shine a light on all its manifestations, especially for women with mood disorders that can be attributed, in part, to hormonal influences on the brain. Unlike my tendency to overshare, I didn’t tell people I was going through this because I didn’t think it was “serious enough”. I didn’t want to be cast amongst the common stereotypes or tropes around women who are “PMSing”.

What I’ve come to realise is this: big or small, mild or devastating, intermittent or long-lasting, depression can hit us in unlikely and unusual ways.

Mona Chammas

Gallery courtesy Tom Moreton