Rebecca D

Name: Rebecca D

Location: Leeds, UK

PMDD

All through my teenage years I was troubled. I struggled to make friends, and those friends I did have were often left aghast at my erratic behaviour. I experienced trauma in my teenage years, I experienced abuse, I experienced bullying and I developed an eating disorder. I knew I didn't actually have an eating disorder - I was sad. I was so very sad. Sad at friendships and relationships breaking up. I know many teenagers experience the same, but I felt that I was different and really really sad. I was refused treatment at the eating disorder clinic as my BMI was still high. No one cared that I had gone from a size 14 to a size 6; they just looked at my BMI and said that I wasn't ill enough to be admitted. I lost a tooth to acid corrosion, and another to an abusive relationship, but I didn't meet the criteria for help. My parents, in desperation, paid privately for me to have cognitive behavioural therapy. This worked for a time; however, I also met a new, nice boyfriend, so I can't be sure if it was the CBT or falling in love that made me feel 'better'.

I began a new part of my life and went to university, but then I became unwell again. I was sad; when I looked around I could see that I had no reason to be sad, but I really was. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and put on anti depressants, which made me feel better for a while. I then moved onto another phase of my life on my graduate scheme. I enjoyed the pressure and the buzz, but I didn't fit in. Again, people were aghast at my erratic behaviour. I would end each day saying to myself; Try harder tomorrow, try to be more normal. This worked for a time, but then I became ill again and was put back on anti depressants. This time I qualified with my GP for counselling. I went with the best of intentions, but I didn't get better. I didn't feel better and I was still acting oddly. I was making poor decisions, I was ruining friendships. I suffered some more trauma with significant life events and extreme grief.

I then decided to have children, and I made a conscious decision not to be crazy for my childrens' sake. For many years this worked; I had great internal strength to combat the erratic behaviour. I replaced it with extreme dieting, or shopping, or activities for the kids. I made new friends and I withdrew from social media to help me focus on those friendships. I was monitored by the health visitors and midwives, until cutbacks came and I was left without support. Again, I experienced trauma with my children. But I didn't lose it, I was OK. Phew! However. this only worked for a few years and I finally hit crisis point two years ago. My kids are fine, I have a small but strong group of friends and I have a happy life, but I found myself in a constant cycle of battles at work. I reflected and discovered a monthly pattern whereby I would get excessively upset over the smallest thing, and that would trigger a downward spiral. I started to track these ups and downs as part of my weight-loss. I would do two weeks of great work and lose several kilos, but then something would happen and I would hit a wall and stop dieting. This made me think; what if it wasn't the thing that was happening - what if it was me? After six months of tracking I took my diary to my GP. Nervously I said to her; Don't write down that I've had another episode of crazy, I've worked so hard, but I think there's something wrong with me. She looked, and she listened, and she agreed. She actually said that could explain all my previous cases of poor mental health. We began with some low-dosage anti depressants. These didn't work; I had to wean off them and try another set for six weeks. These didn't work either. Weaned off and six weeks on another set - this has happened multiple times.

Now we are in lockdown and my GP can't see me, but the dosage I am on now seems better. The next time I see my GP it will be to discuss a hysterectomy in my 30s. Finally I have a diagnosis of PMDD. Mind has a great section on PMDD, and they can explain it better than I can. If your mood, or that of someone you know changes once a month, that same series of hormones in me causes me to hit self destruct. To make me sad. To make me eat poorly. To make me feel worthless. But with me I know it is my PMDD, and I have worked so hard to be normal for years that my brain shuts down. It forgets conversations. It forgets meetings. It's like I hit self destruct and lose 5-10 days. And that is the bit that's harder to explain to my kids and my colleagues.

In education I have flitted from post to post, and now that I have my diagnosis I can see why. I found myself in a cycle of ups and downs in every role. As we all do, but for me these downs were extreme. Recognising the depth of the lows I would change roles, believing it was the fault of the department or the manager, but now I know it probably was a bit of all of this and my PMDD thrown into the mix too. I have been overlooked for promotions because I don't fit in. Because I made a poor decision in a meeting. Because my observation was all over the shop. Because I spoke out of turn when I saw unfairness that needed addressing. I have done a lot of soul searching, and I realise that all of these behaviours are me. I will always fight against injustice; I probably went about it in the wrong way in the past, but when I look at my diary I can see what may have played a part in that. But education, certainly where I am, isn't ready to recognise this as an issue; it would be seen as an excuse and as a weakness.

When I became a teacher I was sent for a mental health check as a matter of course. I was extremely nervous, and vomited twice during the assessment. I was given the questionnaire of 1s and 0s and I passed it with flying colours. The occupational health worker said; Thank goodness you passed that, eh? Try to be a bit calmer yeah, people need to know that you're OK. I'm not sure if she was trying to help, or to give me advice, or what. But it's a general perception that because I'm in education, people need to know that I'm OK. When I was bullied by a manager I was sent to occupational health again and they said something similar - along the lines of; Yeah this time it's OK because it's your boss, but if you were unwell we would need to step in. In my experience, when you work in education it doesn't feel as though you receive support with mental health issues.

I had a heart to heart with my boss about a year ago, when my GP and I started with my medication. He instantly recognised what I was describing; he had seen it all and wondered why I made poor choices at certain times but was top of my game at other times. He wanted to support me, but at that time we didn't know how, and to be fair we probably still don't. He has suggested that I mark in my diary when I think we should avoid meetings, and I think that will help. But for all his kindness and his support, he doesn't get it. He doesn't understand how swinging the highs and lows are. He doesn't get how I actually need to sit in a quiet room for long periods to process the intrusive thoughts. And that's not his fault. He isn't equipped to deal with that. He has suggested that we go to HR for help, but as they forgot I was on maternity leave last time and sent me absence reporting letters as well as paying me wrongly on several occasions, I'm not sure even they are equipped to help. The best help I have is a colleague who is also a friend. She doesn't get it either, but she tries to get it and I use her a lot to lean on. I'm grateful for that, but I recognise its not fair on her. However, in the world of education, mental health is such a taboo that I can't risk telling anyone else as I will be overlooked again for promotion. I am writing this on a good day, so I know it's an honest account. And I know in my heart that I have to keep quiet about my mental health for the sake of my career.