When My Body Tenses, My Mind Awakens: Living and Creating Through PMDD

Journey To Freedom
Written By Shirley Druyeh
The Duality of PMDD

The Duality of PMDD

"One side holds the weight—pain, tension, and sensory overwhelm. Sound feels too loud, light too sharp, even touch and taste become too much. For years, I didn’t connect the nausea with sensory overload, but now I know it’s part of it too. The body becomes overstimulated and resistant, even to the things that could help. The other side brings unexpected clarity—creativity flows, the mind opens, ideas connect effortlessly. This is PMDD: two contrasting realities in one body, cycling month after month."

This week I found myself deep in my PMDD cycle. It hit yesterday, and I woke up today with my body in full tension mode—painful, tight, and resistant to even the gentlest movements. The pain doesn’t just sit everywhere equally—it concentrates. Today, it’s sharp and deep in my upper back, shoulders, neck, and down the middle of my spine. That’s where the tension feels most locked in. But my whole body still hurts, like it’s holding on, unable to let go. It’s that mix—targeted pain and full-body tension—that makes it hard to move and why I often just need to lie down. I know light stretching or a walk would help, but even those feel just beyond reach. What I really need is nature.

I wrote this in my journal early this morning:

"I’m PMDDing and it hit really badly yesterday. I’ve woken up and it’s here. I can feel it in my body; it’s very intense. My body is in pain; everything is tense. The pain feels like it’s coming from how tense the body is—everything is tight. The pain makes it hard to do things that I know would help like light stretching and a walk. I could really do with nature right now. It’s like a natural soother to this when I can get there."

I made it to the balcony at 4:30am. I'm sitting here barefoot, and it is helping. Even though I live next to a busy road and the early traffic noise is surprisingly loud, the fresh air is calming. The energy of the earth really does soothe something in me—like grounding. I truly believe that being in nature helps regulate this part of my nervous system.

As I sat there, I realised my senses were heightened—another symptom I often forget about until I'm back in it. Sounds feel louder, lights are too bright. Even the screen on my phone was overwhelming until I dimmed it. A garbage truck rolled past and the noise was jarring, as if it were noon rather than dawn. Even taste feels overwhelming—something I only recently connected to sensory overload, after years of assuming the nausea was unrelated. These sensory shifts are hard to explain, but if you've been there, you know.

What’s strange and beautiful is that while my body is struggling, my mind is... thriving. This week I entered serious flow. I worked on projects I hadn’t been able to touch for months, (or maybe last month when I experienced this burst of creativity). My website redesign and side hustle strategy suddenly made sense, and for the first time in a while, I felt clear on what I wanted to build. I had 3am bursts of clarity where I could work for five straight hours in deep, focused creation. I sketched and created art as well. It all felt easier to do. My brain felt sharper, more connected, more intuitive. It’s one of the strange gifts of this condition—a window of hyper creativity that shows up before the full crash. I feel like I quickly need to get all this out before I’m in too much pain or my mood is too low to create.

It’s almost like a final surge before the storm. But while that surge brings brilliance, the crash brings the paralysis. It’s hard to describe what it’s like to live through this every month, especially when you’re trying to maintain a job, relationships, and just day-to-day functioning. Some months it’s lighter, others it’s brutal. But every time, I forget just how hard it is until I’m in it again. This is actually the hardest bit for me—forgetting. Almost every month, it catches me off guard. I forget how bad it can get, and that surprise makes it even harder to cope.

That’s why I’m writing this. To remember. To share. To say to anyone going through this: you're not crazy. You're not alone. And you're not lazy, weak, or undisciplined. You're navigating something that requires strength most people never have to muster.

Last year, I took five months off work. I now work four days a week and use work-from-home flexibility to manage flare-ups. I haven’t told my employer everything—they know about the burnout, but not the PMDD. It’s hard to explain when your illness isn’t visible, and your good days make people forget your bad ones.

If you want to better understand what this feels like, there’s an episode of Modern Love (Season 1, Episode 3) with Anne Hathaway that comes pretty close. It’s based on the real story of Terri Cheney, who has bipolar disorder. While I don’t have bipolar, my PMDD episodes mimic it in many ways—especially the emotional highs and devastating lows.

To cope, I use a few key tools:

  • Cycle syncing: I plan work, social life, and even cleaning routines around my cycle. You can find out more about Cycling syncing from Claire Baker here or in her book “50 Things You Need To Know About Periods: Know Your Flow” (Amazon).

  • Trusted cleaners: During the worst days, I rely on a cleaning service I’ve used for over 7 years. They know my home and help keep my environment calm when I can't.

  • Grounding rituals: Being near water, barefoot on the balcony, or even just hearing wind through trees helps my body soften.

  • Journaling and naming my emotions: Sounds simple but this is life transforming. Journaling helped me realise it followed a pattern linked to my menstrual cycle. That realisation helped me explain it clearly to my doctor back in the UK at the time. After many failed attempts at explaining this to different doctors (NHS - hard to see the same doctor twice - this also didn’t help), I finally had a doctor—an older man whose wife happened to have PMDD—and he recognised the symptoms. I was so overwhelmed by it all at the time and had been living with it for about 10-8 years undiagnosed at this point. I don’t even remember the doctor’s name, even which clinic I met him at (I think I was deep in an episode at the time), but having someone finally recognise it and give it a name was a real blessing. So I really suggest if anyone you know or you are having similar symptoms and not sure—journal and check the calendar and see if there are any patterns.

  • The Soften Protocol: I created a mini ritual I follow when PMDD peaks. It includes gentle grounding actions, affirmations, and nature-based self-care.

    • 🎁 Want the free PDF checklist that goes with this post?
      It’s coming soon! Join the list below and I’ll send it straight to your inbox when it’s live:

      📬 subscribe to my newsletter!
      (No spam. Just practical tools + real talk on building a life with freedom and clarity.)

I’m also developing a simple PMDD Grounding Toolkit that I’ll share on this website—with tips, rituals, and reminders for those navigating similar cycles. It will live here under the "Journey to Freedom" section because that’s what this is: a journey toward understanding myself, honouring my needs, and choosing compassion over shame.

I hope by sharing this, someone else feels less alone. Whether you're experiencing PMDD, chronic burnout, or just a confusing set of symptoms no one seems to understand—you are not making it up.

Take what helps, leave what doesn’t. And know this: your lived experience is valid, even if no one else sees it.

With love,
Shirley

Books & Resources That Have Helped Me On My Journey

I learnt about Cycling Syncing from Claire Baker you can find info on that here. She also has a book I’ve added below.

Here are a few books that really helped me shift my mindset and understand money in a healthier, more empowering way:

🖋️ Other Articles:

Shirley Druyeh

Shirley Druyeh is a writer, creator, and quantity surveyor redefining what work and wealth look like. Based in Sydney, Australia, she is Ghanaian and British—born in Ghana, raised in the UK, and now an Australian citizen. She writes about financial freedom, homeownership, identity, and the journey of redesigning your life—one decision at a time. Her work explores the intersections of money, independence, womanhood, and what it means to build a meaningful life beyond the 9–5.

Previous

Slavery Never Ended—They Just Gave It a New Name
Next

Debt, Discipline & That Magic £15K: How I Built My Emergency Fund (and Started Living on Cash)