Living with PMDD: My Hulk Week
I’m so honoured to share this deeply personal and compelling guest post from my beautiful friend of 8 years, Charlotte, who has generously opened up about living with ADHD and PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder). PMDD is often misunderstood or overlooked, yet it can have a profound impact on mental health and daily life.
Char lives on the stunning Sunshine Coast with her husband and two kids. She’s one of those rare people who is hilarious, warm, deeply accepting, supportive, and unafraid to be open and vulnerable. She’s creative, strong, intelligent, caring, compassionate—and seriously good at interior design!
In her own words, she shares what it really feels like to live with PMDD—raw, relatable, and important. I hope her story helps shine a light on an experience that deserves far more awareness and understanding. Please read on, and if it resonates, know you’re not alone.
I’ve been meaning to write about my experience with PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder) for a long time and in true ADHD fashion, I just… haven't. But tonight, as I sit halfway through a family sized block of chocolate in what I refer to in my head as Hulk Week, I figured now’s the time.
If you're not familiar with Hulk Week, imagine that big green guy (yes, that Hulk), going on a rampage. He’s impulsive, he’s raging, and he destroys everything in his path. Then Bruce wakes up, full of regret and shame wondering what on earth just happened. That’s me. Every month. Emotional, overwhelmed, and leaving a trail of arguments and chocolate wrappers in my wake.
I first realised what I was experiencing wasn’t just your garden-variety PMS when my first baby was just over a year old. Life was chaos: new house, renovations, new job, and a toddler bringing home every daycare virus under the sun. One day, after frantically cleaning and trying to tick things off my endless to-do list, I snapped. A huge fight with my husband over something wildly important like... which way the dishwasher should be stacked. I stormed out of the house with just my car keys, feeling like I was dancing on the edge of a sinkhole.
The day before, I had spent hours crying, cancelling plans, and storming around the house barking orders trying to get things done. I was physically and emotionally wrecked. I ended up parked by the river, staring at the water, and for a terrifying moment I thought: What if I just drove in? It felt like an easy way out. I knew I wouldn’t because my family meant everything to me, but that fleeting thought scared me enough to turn the car around and go home and book an appointment with my psychologist straight away.
Trying to explain what was happening felt impossible. I told her it was like I had a little guy living in my brain, watching everything from a tiny window, laughing while he pulled random levers of chaos and made my life fall apart. And then, a few days later my period would arrive along with my sanity and I felt back in control.
It kept happening. Month after month. Eventually, I started tracking my symptoms and doing late-night Google searches that ended in “Can periods make you crazy?” But PMDD came up again and again. My psychologist thought that this was a likely diagnosis, and around this time we were also exploring a diagnosis of ADHD. She explained there is a strong link between the two and around 45% of women with ADHD report PMDD symptoms, compared to 28% of women without ADHD. The theory is that ADHD brains already have lower baseline dopamine, and when hormones drop, the emotional rollercoaster becomes more of a high speed, off the rails ride.
I now have another beautiful baby, and although my pregnancy was not easy, my PMDD symptoms disappeared. It felt like a mental holiday as I could just exist without the extreme rage, sadness and guilt. After giving birth, I received an official diagnosis of both ADHD and PMDD from a psychiatrist, something I hear that happens a lot as many women get diagnosed after having children, when hormonal shifts become more noticeable.
In terms of treatment, I’m still figuring that one out. I’ve tried SSRIs, stimulants, hormonal birth control, and an IUD but finding the right balance and combination is still ongoing. PMDD impacts my life in deep and difficult ways: my ability to parent how I want to, to show up to be the wife, daughter and friend I want to be, and to function effectively at work. For about 7 to 10 days each month, I’m a different version of myself. One who struggles to cope, struggles to connect, and struggles to even explain what’s going on inside my head.
It’s hard to ask for help when you’re not sure people get it. PMS is widely known (and joked about), but PMDD not so much. My brain often feels like it’s been replaced by a chicken nugget, and trying to explain what’s happening while in the middle of it is sometimes out of reach for me.
If you're reading this out of curiosity, thank you. Awareness really does matter.
If you think someone in your life might be struggling with PMDD, please show up for them. Offer to take the kids to the park, post that parcel, bring over a coffee, or just sit there and listen to them vent. And encourage them to speak to a professional as a diagnosis can genuinely be life changing.
And if you’re reading this and see yourself in these words - I see you too. Be gentle with yourself. You’re not alone, you’re not broken. You’re doing the best you can inside something that’s incredibly hard to live with.
Give yourself the big, overdue hug you deserve. Oh and give the little guy in your brain the middle finger.
Support Resources
If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out: Lifeline Australia: 13 11 14 Beyond Blue: 1300 22 4636 | www.beyondblue.org.au