“More Than PMS: The Beginning of MY PMDD Journey
- Oksana George
- 2 days ago
- 11 min read
By Oksana George Date: 05/22/2025
Part I: The Beginning Of The I Don’t Knows…
I never imagined I’d be writing about this—yet here I am, sharing one of the most personal and eye-opening parts of my journey: my experience with PMDD. My goal is simple—to spread awareness and give a voice to those who may be struggling silently, just like I once did. It all started when I was just 11 years old—the day I got my first period. I remember it vividly. I was in tutoring, feeling off but unsure why. I chalked it up to a stomachache because, at that age, I didn’t know what else to expect. The cramps started to intensify, and eventually, I had to excuse myself for a bathroom break.
I wasn’t running—but I was definitely walking with purpose. The moment I pulled down my pants, I saw blood everywhere. I froze. Confused. A little scared. But then it hit me—this must be what they were talking about in that awkward sex-ed class. I took a breath, calmed down, and remembered what my mom had told me: “If you ever start your period and don’t have anything with you, just use toilet paper and tell someone if I’m not around.” So that’s exactly what I did. The tutor called my dad to pick me up early.
I still remember getting into the car and seeing a chocolate bar waiting for me on the seat. (Yes, you can laugh—my dad thought he was being thoughtful.) I looked at him and said, “Really?” He just smiled. Once I got home, the cramps got worse, and I curled up in bed for the rest of the day. From that point on, my periods were never easy. Each month brought intense pain that would have me in the fetal position, crying to my mom. Every morning when that time had came- every month- like clockwork, it hit me—the pain would start the moment I used the bathroom. It was brutal.
My mom would hand me ibuprofen, hoping to take the edge off, but nothing ever really made it go away. I remember thinking, “Why does this hurt so much? They never said anything about this in sex-ed!” Those lessons made it sound like periods were uncomfortable at best—not debilitating. But this was 2011. No one was talking about PMDD. And truthfully, not many people are talking about it now either. That’s why I’m here. To talk about it. To break the silence. To help someone else feel seen.
Part II A strange Pattern Begans
As the years passed, I continued to struggle—not just with emotions, but with understanding myself. When I was just 10 years old, I was diagnosed with ADHD by my pediatrician. I was extremely disruptive in school, never able to focus, and often labeled as “too much” by teachers and classmates. I was also incredibly sensitive and had a hard time forming real friendships. I recognize that these were classic ADHD symptoms.
When I was finally diagnosed, everything shifted. I was prescribed Adderall for the first time, and the difference was immediate. I could focus. I could think clearly. I could participate in class without constantly being corrected. For once, I even started forming connections with my peers. My parents, teachers, and classmates all noticed a positive change. I still had challenges, but life started to feel a little more manageable. But then things started to change again—around the ages of 11 and 12.
Even though I was “functioning” better on the outside, I started experiencing intense waves of sadness, irritability, and panic attacks. At first, my parents and doctors assumed it was the Adderall causing these side effects, so they lowered the dose. That helped a little, but not completely. Deep down, even at that age, I knew I didn’t want to stop taking the medication because it helped me feel in control—at least externally. Still, I was struggling. I learned how to hide it really well.
There were days when I felt okay, but many more when I was moody, anxious, angry, and incredibly low. Something wasn’t right, and I didn’t know how to explain it. By age 13, I was doing well academically and learning to advocate for myself, but mentally I was breaking. We eventually switched to a new psychiatrist at Dayton Children’s Hospital. I’ll never forget him—he was kind, understanding, and made a real effort to help. With my parents by my side, I sat in my first real psychiatric evaluation. That day, I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and again, ADHD.
From that point on, I was placed on SSRIs and anxiety medication. And that would continue well into my adulthood. The truth? I was still suffering. Maybe less outwardly, but deeply, internally. I still felt like I was on a mental rollercoaster. Some days were great—but most felt unbearable. I started to question if I had a mood disorder, trauma-related responses, bipolar, or even a personality disorder.
I didn’t know what to believe anymore. At one point, I genuinely thought I was just broken. I lived like that for years. The emotional cycle never stopped. I hit one of my lowest points at age 15 with a failed suicide attempt. I struggled with self-harm, intense body image issues, and a toxic dynamic with both my mom and my brother. On top of that, being a Russian adoptee made me wonder if my emotional struggles were rooted in something deeper—something I couldn’t quite access.
All I wanted was to feel normal. Not perfect—just like a functioning human being. But what I was experiencing didn’t feel normal. It felt foreign, isolating, and exhausting. I cycled through three therapists and three psychiatrists from childhood through adulthood, but I still never received answers that truly explained what was happening to me. Everything felt like a band-aid—temporary relief that never got to the root. We were masking symptoms. Not solving the problem.
My favorite quote: “Just because it’s taking time Doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”
Part III: Living In The Confusion
For years, I lived in a fog of confusion—struggling deeply with my mental health and never fully understanding why. I battled through constant anxiety, panic attacks, crushing depression, and intense mood swings that seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment I’d feel on top of the world, and the next, I’d crash—emotionally drained, angry, hopeless. There was no middle ground. It was exhausting.
Relationships were hard. Keeping a job felt impossible. I bounced from medication to medication, therapist to therapist, just trying to figure out what was wrong with me. At times, the lows were so severe that I ended up admitted to a mental health facility because of suicidal thoughts. And the scariest part? It felt like this happened on a cycle—every single month. In December 2024, something finally shifted.
I had been doing well—or so I thought—but then I woke up one day and couldn’t get out of bed. I felt disconnected, numb, and overwhelmed with negative thoughts: Why do I feel this way again? What happened? I was doing so well. Why can’t I just be normal? The depression was heavy, lasting two full weeks, after the two weeks I had started my period and felt fine afterwards. It was the weirdest thing ever. At that time i didnt think anything to be PMDD. I just kinda shrugged it off and said to myself, “oh i just started my period.” I wore a mask to get through each day, but inside I was drowning.
Desperate for answers, I started researching mood disorders. I thought maybe I had bipolar disorder—everything seemed to align. I called my psychiatrist, who agreed to do a full assessment. She believed it could be bipolar and prescribed Vraylar. But it made things worse. I felt like a zombie. Then we tried Caplyta—same story. Nothing helped. In fact, I felt worse. She even took me off my ADHD medication, explaining that it could make mania worse in people with bipolar disorder. Still, nothing improved.
I was at my breaking point. I told her to just put me back on my old medications—I was done. It felt like she had given up on me, too. And that hurt even more, considering she’d been my psychiatrist since I was 15. That’s when I knew something had to change. My marriage was hanging by a thread. My relationships with my mom and dad, my husband’s family, and my friends were falling apart. We were still living with my mother-in-law, and I had no real support from my own side of the family.
I remember thinking, If I don’t figure this out, I could end up homeless. Alone. Completely lost. That moment of realization broke me—but it also woke me up. I needed a second opinion. I needed someone to truly listen. And I needed to believe that I wasn’t just “crazy”—that there was something deeper going on.
Part IV: Seeking Answers
One day, out of frustration and desperation, I typed into Google: “extreme mood swings. And that’s when I saw it—PMDD. I had never heard of it before. But the symptoms? They sounded exactly like what I had been experiencing for years. This was around April and May of 2025. At the time, I was actively going to therapy and had just scheduled my first appointment with a new psychiatrist. I couldn’t shake the thought of PMDD, so I started digging.
And I mean really digging. I read articles, watched videos, visited forums—anything I could get my hands on. Something about this condition just made sense… but at the same time, I was still unsure. Could this really be what’s been going on with me? At my first appointment with my new psychiatrist in April, I told him everything. Every symptom. Every emotional spiral. Every reason I had to switch providers.
I was completely honest with him—and thank God, because he listened. He actually mentioned PMDD during that session, but we only had 30 minutes together, and I was rushing. I didn’t really take it in. I shrugged it off and left the appointment with it lingering in the back of my mind. A couple of days later, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. A voice in my head said, “Oksana, don’t ignore this.
Go do your research.” So I sat down—and I didn’t move for six hours. I’m not exaggerating. I went down the rabbit hole of PMDD. I needed to know what it really was. I started with the basics: What is PMDD? Google told me: “Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder is a more severe form of PMS. It affects people of childbearing age and is a serious, chronic condition that requires medical attention and treatment.” I chuckled for a second and thought, “PMS on steroids.” But I did take it seriously.
Then I looked up the symptoms: Severe mood swings, depression, irritability, anxiety, panic, hopelessness, fatigue, changes in appetite, insomnia or hypersomnia, body tenderness, lack of motivation, reduced interest in sex or social activities, trouble concentrating—the list went on. And I checked nearly every box. I started wondering: How could this be happening to me? Where is this coming from? I don’t know much about my family history since I was adopted from Russia, but I do know my birth mother struggled with depression.
And in many areas of Russia, mental health just isn’t something that’s widely acknowledged or understood. But then I saw something that clicked even more. I came across an article on ADDitude Magazine titled: “PMDD, Autism, and ADHD: The Hushed Comorbidity.” Here’s the link: https://www.additudemag.com/pmdd-autism-adhd As someone with ADHD, this stopped me in my tracks.
Could this be why I’ve been feeling so unstable every month? Could there be a deeper connection between my ADHD and what I was going through? I kept reading. And the more I learned, the more everything started to make sense. Trauma history? Check. Mental health conditions like ADHD, depression, PTSD? Check. The emotional and physical rollercoaster every single month? Check. A light bulb went off in my head.
Oksana… this is it. This has to be PMDD. I hopped on Facebook and searched for PMDD support groups. I found one and requested to join. A few hours later, I was accepted in. I made my first post, sharing my story. Within minutes, I had several women commenting, saying, “You’re not alone. This is PMDD.” And that… was just the beginning.
Part V: Getting The Diagnosis
After diving deep into research and joining PMDD support groups, I decided it was time to get serious about tracking my symptoms. I began reflecting on the previous months—how I’d been feeling emotionally, mentally, and physically. I took notes on everything: my moods, thoughts, energy levels, physical symptoms, and how all of it seemed to intensify right before my period. I wasn’t going to let this go unnoticed anymore.
I started tracking daily. I used the Flo app to monitor my cycle and symptoms, and I used the PMDD Tracker app to log my mood patterns. The more I documented, the more obvious it became—there was a clear, repeating pattern to my suffering. Two weeks ago, on a Friday afternoon, I brought everything—my notes, my mood charts, and my full honesty—to my therapist. I laid it all out. I didn’t hold anything back.
I told her what I had discovered, what I was feeling, and why I believed something deeper was going on. She looked at everything I’d tracked… and then said the words I had been waiting to hear: “It really sounds like PMDD.” That moment was validating. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t broken. I had been fighting something real all along—and finally, someone saw it. What made the diagnosis process smoother this time was a combination of two things:
1. I was working with a new therapist and psychiatrist who were both open-minded, compassionate, and actually listened to me.
2. I didn’t give up on myself. I showed up. I was honest. I tracked, I spoke up, and I advocated for my own healing.
That alone was a massive step in my journey. I finally had a name for what I’d been living with—and that meant I could finally start fighting it the right way.
Part V: The relief
Honestly, when I finally received my PMDD diagnosis, did the research, and listened to others share their stories, it felt like a massive weight had been lifted off my shoulders. After years of battling severe mood swings, deep depressive episodes, losing friendships, nearly ending my marriage, and so much more—I finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel.
That feeling—of clarity, of validation—was one of the best feelings in the world. Because I didn’t give up. I didn’t stop. I didn’t disappear. I kept going. And I’m here to tell you: if you’re experiencing the same pain and confusion I went through, now is the time to start advocating for yourself. Dig deeper. You deserve answers.
To me, the diagnosis wasn’t the end—it was the beginning. In my next blog, I’ll be sharing the steps I’ve taken to keep myself from spiraling again. It’s been a journey of trial and error, but there is hope. There are natural remedies and lifestyle changes that can ease the symptoms of PMDD—and I can’t wait to share them with you.
Lastly- Why I Am Sharing This With You
I’m sharing my story because awareness matters—PMDD needs a louder voice. Too many people are misdiagnosed or dismissed, never even hearing the term “PMDD” as a possible explanation for what they’re going through.
I’m not claiming that a diagnosis will solve everything, but it could be the missing piece of your puzzle—something you’ve been silently battling without even knowing it. That’s why I’ve opened up about my experience.
If any part of my story resonates with you, please don’t ignore it. Advocate for yourself. Ask questions. Dig deeper. You deserve answers and support. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. If this helps even one person feel seen, understood, or empowered to seek help—then sharing it was worth everything.
Resources
● The International Association For Premenstrual Disorders- www.iapmd.org
● 988 Lifeline - If you need emotional support, reach out to the national mental health hotline: 988.
PMDD FUN FACTS
● Prevalence: PMDD affects about 1 in 12 individuals who menstruate, which translates to approximately 3-8% of women of reproductive age. This highlights how common yet often misunderstood this condition is.
● Symptoms: Unlike typical premenstrual syndrome (PMS), PMDD can lead to debilitating mood swings, irritability, and severe depression, along with physical symptoms like bloating and breast tenderness. These symptoms typically occur in the luteal phase of the menstrual cycle and can severely impact work and relationships.
● Biological Basis: Recent research has identified that women with PMDD may have an altered gene complex that affects their response to hormones and stressors. This discovery provides a biological basis for the mood disturbances associated with PMDD, validating the experiences of those affected.
● Misdiagnosis: Many women with PMDD are often misdiagnosed with other mental health conditions, such as bipolar disorder, due to the severity of their symptoms. This underscores the importance of proper diagnosis and treatment.
● Treatment Options: Effective treatments for PMDD include lifestyle changes, therapy, and medications such as antidepressants and hormonal treatments. Cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) has also been shown to be beneficial in managing symptoms.
● Understanding PMDD is crucial for those affected and their loved ones, as it is a serious medical condition that requires appropriate recognition and treatment.
I'm proud of you. Keep going! 🥰