Leanne’s journey of PMDD, chemical and surgical menopause
My name is Leanne. I’m 38 years old, a mum to a beautiful son, and I have recently undergone a hysterectomy and oophorectomy, a surgical procedure to remove one or both ovaries, for a condition called premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD).
PMDD is a severe form of premenstrual syndrome (PMS), where symptoms are similar to PMS but are much more intense, and have a much greater negative impact on the life of those affected. Definitions vary slightly, but the most commonly used is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, which says a woman must experience at least five out of 11 distinct psychological premenstrual symptoms, one of which must include mood [1]. However, women with PMDD really vary varies with their symptoms – both types of symptoms and duration. Other symptoms often include marked anxiety, lethargy and decreased interest in usual activities, and these five symptoms should usually be present in the two weeks before your periods, tend to improve within a couple of days of your periods starting, and be minimal in the week after your period.
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My journey to PMDD diagnosis
I didn’t know I had PMDD until 2023. In fact, I’d never even heard of it. It wasn’t until I began tracking my cycle, researching my symptoms, and desperately trying to understand what was happening to me that I discovered this condition.
The fact it took so long for me to be diagnosed saddens me, because PMDD wasn’t something newly discovered in 2023, far from it. The formal criteria for PMDD was established almost 40 years ago. And yet here I was, like so many women, suffering in silence, misdiagnosed, misunderstood, and feeling completely alone.
That’s why I am sharing my story – for the women out there who are still suffering in the dark, who feel unheard, and who need to know they aren’t alone.
When people ask me what PMDD is, I often describe it as my brain being allergic to my own hormones. That may sound simple, but the reality is anything but. Blood tests over the years always showed my hormone levels as ‘normal’, but PMDD isn’t about having too much or too little of a hormone, it’s about how your brain responds to the normal hormonal fluctuations of a cycle.
So why a hysterectomy and ovary removal at 38?
Looking back, PMDD was always there. I remember hitting puberty and becoming a completely different person 14 days before my period. I would switch but back then, we didn’t have smartphones in our pockets or Google to turn to, so I just assumed what I was going through was normal. It would always start in my body before my mind caught up. My legs would suddenly feel heavy, like I was walking through thick mud. I would feel like I was coming down with the flu – aching, exhausted, desperate to sleep. And when I did sleep, it wasn’t restful. It was filled with vivid, nightmarish dreams that blurred the line between reality and imagination. Waking up didn’t bring relief because I’d be left wondering if the things I dreamt had really happened or not. The confusion and exhaustion left me vulnerable, and then the psychological symptoms would begin to build, day after day, getting louder and harder to ignore.
Paranoia would creep in first, quiet but insistent. Then came the rage – sharp, irrational, completely consuming. I was irritable beyond reason, anxious beyond words. Panic attacks would hit out of nowhere. I would misread situations, twist innocent moments into something threatening, or convince myself I was being judged, hated, left out. My mind would spiral, full of intrusive thoughts that felt so real, so powerful, I could lose days trapped inside them – replaying conversations, second-guessing everything, drowning in overthinking.
It’s hard to describe the darkness that would take over. But I always called it being ‘not Leanne’. For two weeks out of every month, like clockwork, I wasn’t me. It felt like my body and mind were hijacked by something I couldn’t fight, no matter how hard I tried. No amount of positive thinking, self-care, or willpower could stop it. It was like being trapped inside my own head, watching myself from the outside, powerless to stop the anger, the sadness, the fear.
For years I begged for help during my worst PMDD episodes from healthcare professionals. I was misdiagnosed time and time again: various healthcare professionals diagnosed me with ME, depression, PTSD and anxiety.
Antidepressants helped in a small way, but every contraceptive I was prescribed to try and help manage my symptoms led to terrifying psychotic episodes. My life became a constant battle – mentally and physically. I would have around 14 days of PMDD in every 28-day cycle and the remaining days were spent recovering, dreading its return.
In 2017 I gave birth to my son, who is my absolute world. But within hours of giving birth, I felt that terrifying shift. The PMDD had returned, and the symptoms were more severe than ever. This wasn’t the PMDD I had grown used to navigating. This wasn’t the darkness I had learned to survive, or the intrusive thoughts I could at least name and recognise. This was something else entirely. This time, the PMDD didn’t just pull me into anxiety or rage or spirals of overthinking, it dragged me into psychosis.
I lost touch with reality. I struggled to separate what was real from what was not. My thoughts weren’t just intrusive, they became distorted, frightening, and unrelenting. I would catch myself questioning what was happening around me, doubting what I was seeing, hearing, even feeling. My brain, already wired from years of living with PMDD, now felt like it had short-circuited under the weight of postpartum exhaustion, trauma, and hormonal chaos.
It was terrifying. There was no escape route, no pause button, no clarity. I felt trapped in a version of myself I didn’t recognise. And the scariest part was knowing I was slipping, knowing I wasn’t okay but feeling powerless to pull myself back. The mental torment of PMDD, combined with postpartum recovery and sleep deprivation, pushed me into a place I never thought I’d go. Psychosis wasn’t just darkness; it was a complete disconnection from who I was.
When my son was a few weeks old, I went to see my GP, who immediately called the mental health crisis team. The days blurred into nights of panic, fear, and hopelessness. I ended up two hours from home in a mother and baby unit, which are in-patient facilities designed to provide mental health support and care to new mothers.
It was one of the hardest experiences of my life. But even then, PMDD was not recognised.
At last: PMDD diagnosis
By 2023, I had nothing left to lose and I just wanted answers. I began tracking my symptoms obsessively. I researched day and night, this was when I discovered PMDD. I went to my GP armed with knowledge but the wait on NHS was too long, I needed immediate intervention, so my mum financially supported me and funded for a private appointment.
Within 30minutes of my first private gynaecology appointment, I was diagnosed with PMDD. Together with my gynaecologist, we made the decision to medically induce menopause – shutting down my ovaries with monthly injections to stop the hormonal rollercoaster. I remember the doctor saying to me, ‘Leanne, you will now discover who you are’ and they were right.
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Chemical menopause
For 18 months, I lived in a chemically-induced menopause. I started having months of no PMDD. I tried multiple forms of HRT, but every time we reintroduced progesterone, the PMDD rage, paranoia and depression returned. some women have an intolerance or sensitivity to progesterone or progestogen – the synthetic form of progesterone– which can cause various physical and psychological symptoms.
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Surgical menopause
Eventually, I faced a decision I never thought I’d have to make: surgery. In November 2024, I underwent a total hysterectomy and bilateral oophorectomy, removing both ovaries. It was the right decision for me, not a cure, but a way to take back control of my life. It was also the right decision as I could not continue the medically induced menopause without progesterone add back to protect my uterus.
Surgical menopause was brutal. I was young. My natural hormones were depleting fast, and my GP wouldn’t increase my oestrogen dose to ease my symptoms. My mental health began to dip again.
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Newson Clinic: the game changer
At this point, I booked my first appointment with the Newson Clinic and honestly, it changed everything.
For the first time, I sat with a specialist who truly understood PMDD and surgical menopause. They listened. They validated my experience. They explained why I required higher dose of oestrogen to support my mental health but also introduced the idea of testosterone.
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Testosterone for me wasn’t just about libido, it was about brain function, energy, motivation, muscle health – all the things PMDD had stripped from me for so long.
RELATED PODCAST: Testosterone: beyond libido
The care at the Newson Clinic was compassionate, knowledgeable, and life-changing. I left feeling empowered – finally understanding my body, my condition, and my treatment.
My message to others struggling with PMDD
PMDD robs too many women of their lives, of precious moments as mothers, daughters, friends and partners.
If you suspect you may have PMDD, track your symptoms. Track everything: your physical andpsychological symptoms for at least three months. Take that evidence with youto appointments.
Advocate foryourself fiercely. If you hit a brick wall, find someone else and get a secondopinion. My story shows there are specialists out there who understand.
And please know this: there is hope.
I write this today as Leanne, not Leanne living a life controlled by PMDD, but me. The real me. The me who can make plans without fear. The me who can socialise. Be a mum. Be present. Be happy.
I rarely suffer in the nightmare my hormones once trapped me in, and at time still can when my HRT fluctuates, but this I can control, as I now have the knowledge.
My only hope in sharing my story, in opening up and showing my vulnerability, is this: that my experience might give even a small bit of strength to those still suffering in silence.
To anyone out there feeling lost or alone, please know this: you are not alone.
Keep going.Keep fighting. There is a life beyond PMDD. And you deserve to live it.
It is possible.
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