Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation (10 page)

Sound familiar? Hysteria by any other name …

Chapter 5

SEEING RED

H
ARRIDAN. SHREW. BATTLEAXE, SPITFIRE, NAG. Termagant, if you’re feeling literary, or just plain bitch, if you’re not.

There have been derogatory words for moody, temperamental, argumentative women for centuries. When Shakespeare wrote The Taming of the Shrew, after all, he sure wasn’t talking about how to train a small foraging land mammal. The word “bitch” goes back to at least 1400. In an 1811 British dictionary, it’s described as “the most offensive appellation that can be given to an English woman, even more provoking than that of ‘whore.’”

While one may ponder at length about which is actually worse, being called a bitch or a whore, the fact remains that society seems to hold the Difficult Woman in a truly special position of distaste and contempt, even hatred. While no one really enjoys being shrieked at by anyone, regardless of the shrieker’s gender, there appears to be far greater dislike of the woman, rather than the man, who blows up, chokes with quivering fury, or sobs with impotent despair.

And we’re not just talking about men who hate it. Women are often the first to accuse another woman of being a bitch, and they often secretly find endless blame and deep humiliation when it comes to their own frayed tempers, angry outbursts, and tearful tirades. We ourselves have lain awake at three in the morning, bitterly regretting the way we had screamed at our families earlier, burst into racking sobs at a difficult meeting, blown up at a well-intentioned spouse. We picture our faces red with anger, our eyes bulging with rage and/or self-pitying tears, and we feel a deep, quivering shame. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I just let it go? What’s wrong with me, anyway?

© 2008 Bredette Dyer,
www.orionstars.com

After all, you’d have to be either Madonna or just weirdly, preternaturally self-assured not to have internalized the overriding message that’s still being fed to every woman around the world and throughout history, since birth: that the truly feminine female is the one who is boundlessly patient, as well as impossibly sympathetic, eternally sweet-tempered, and just plain good (whatever the hell that means). While men have pretty much, since time immemorial, been the ones responsible for 99 percent of all violent crimes and 99.9 percent of all wars, it is still the woman who loses her temper who seems to trigger the greatest alarm and harshest condemnation from one and all.

Why is this? We understand that we, the fairer sex, may not be brimming over with even one-fifth as much chest-thumping testosterone as are the guys, but still, we’re only human, aren’t we? We don’t see men being castigated for their outbursts of anger or their fits of depression, nor do we find many of them losing much sleep about it, either. Anger and despair may not necessarily be the most entrancing of emotions, it’s true, but occasionally, they’re the only appropriate responses to a bad situation—i.e., anything difficult that happens to us when we don’t have enough hours in the day, or money, or help, or sleep.

When it comes to women, obviously, you can’t talk about anger, anxiety, and depression without also mentioning the 800-pound gorilla in the room. We’re talking about the extra factor that may very well play a mysterious if complex part in our occasionally ungovernable emotions … and that, of course, is PMS.

FEMCARE WEIGHS IN ON MOOD SWINGS

Blues sometimes come right before your period. But they don’t always have to come. Some girls expect them … make a habit of them. Smart girls won’t give in to them. They take their minds off themselves … do things they enjoy doing—like dancing, listening to records. They find that doing happy things helps them feel happy—look happy.

—TAMPAX (1966)

Many women imagine they feel worse than they actually do. They get in a dither, or down in the dumps, just by thinking too much about themselves.

—KOTEX (1943)

Mental attitudes frequently affect bodily functions. Fretting, worry, self-pity can make a person sick and miserable when there is no physical reason for being either. If we dramatize little discomforts … if we think of menstruation as being “sick” or as the “curse” … we only make it unpleasant for ourselves.

—BELTX (1955)

It’s no coincidence that mothers who complain about menstrual pain have daughters who develop pains, too.

—MODESS (1954)

A poor mental attitude will do much towards tensing muscles and causing cramps.

—TAMPAX (1966)

So what is PMS, exactly?

Premenstrual syndrome is defined as a collection of physical and emotional symptoms that appear in the week before one’s period and disappear shortly after flow begins. If you’re American, you probably think all women suffer from PMS, that it’s an inevitable monthly madness that overtakes any female of reproductive age, an inescapable nightmare of bloated bellies, torrents of tears, and snapping tempers. And if you think this, there’s at least one good reason why you do: premenstrual syndrome, not unlike its elderly grandmother, hysteria, has been defined and redefined by numerous experts over the years to the point where it’s a bulging grab bag of symptoms, both physical and emotional, that can afflict, to varying degrees, practically any woman possessing a menstrual cycle. These symptoms, some contradictory, can include not only bloating, headaches, cramps, swollen feet, tender breasts, acne, nausea, weight gain, and fatigue, but also depression, insomnia, sleeplessness, lethargy, anxiety, anger, social withdrawal, difficulty thinking, and (how’s this for a symptom?) a craving for carbohydrates. Since it was first classified, PMS has come to boast more than 150 identified symptoms.

This, to our jaundiced eye, is what we would call throwing the net a tad wide. It’s no wonder women are absolutely convinced they suffer from PMS. With so many symptoms and such broad and fuzzy definitions, we’re surprised to find it doesn’t also apply to men, the elderly, and household pets, as well. And yet get this: there is virtually no consensus among the many, many “experts” on the subject as to what exactly causes PMS, how to treat it … or even what it is.

The heightened emotions and various physical symptoms many women experience in the week before their period were first identified in 1931 by Dr. Robert Frank, who called it “premenstrual tension.” Previously, women who complained about it to their doctors were bluntly labeled “neurotic,” “nervous,” or “hysterical” and summarily sent on their not-so-merry way. The term “premenstrual syndrome,” or PMS, was coined by British physician Dr. Katharina Dalton in 1953, who continued until her death in 2004 to be a veritable guru on the subject, gradually creating a mighty kingdom of bestselling books, court appearances as an expert witness, speaking engagements, and the first-ever PMS clinic from it.

The real glory days of PMS occurred in the early 1980s, when it seemed that every single women’s magazine boasted a cover story about it, and any bookstore worth its salt stocked literally dozens of self-help titles telling women how to deal with it. Picking up where the outdated diagnosis of hysteria had left off, PMS became the universal female syndrome accepted by doctors, scientists, and laypeople everywhere, an inarguable fact of life for most, if not all, women.

And yet, how common is PMS, anyway? This is by no means a simple question with a black-and-white answer, because there’s very little consensus among experts, doctors, scholars, researchers, even women themselves. In fact, studies on PMS to date have varied so wildly in their findings, the ensuing data is practically pointless. With so many possible symptoms, it turns out you could convincingly argue that anywhere from 5 percent to 97 percent of all women suffer from it at some time in their lives. Real useful, huh?

What’s more, there have been disconcerting studies that link PMS and mental health. Most women who go to PMS clinics, for example, already suffer from preexisting depression. According to The New Our Bodies, Ourselves, PMS sufferers tend to have lower self-esteem than those who aren’t afflicted, and are likelier to feel more out of control of their lives and guiltier about losing their tempers. A 1985 study showed that about two-thirds of women with a history of major affective disorder (such as depression) also suffer badly from PMS. If you flip that equation around, it turns out that most women with severe PMS have some preexisting history of depression and/ or anxiety disorder, as well.

PMS symptoms appear to be at their worst when a woman is approximately thirty-five; in fact, a 1963 study even referred to premenstrual moodiness as “mid-thirties syndrome.” One possible reason comes from a 1980 study, which finds that whereas fewer women in their twenties and forties ovulate in every cycle, nearly 92 percent of women in their thirties do. Does this mean PMS is somehow linked to ovulation? We’re sorry to have to report this, but the scientific response is: who the hell knows?

Another explanation might be that most women who report severe PMS are mothers of young children. If PMS is in fact linked to stress, the mid-thirties can certainly be said to be an especially stressful time. In a recent study, almost half of PMS sufferers also reported marriage problems. More provocatively, a study recently suggested women who complain the most about PMS also tend to be more socially conservative, strongly endorsing a traditional female role as homemaker and mother.

So what are we to make of this hodgepodge of theories and conjecture?

Much of it seems to imply that PMS is purely psychological … when we all know that’s not true. Our monthly emotional roller-coaster ride, bloating, and insomnia are not only real, but they’re a purely physical problem based on our womanly hormones.

Or are they?

SYMPTOMS OF PMS … OR OF BEING HUMAN?

Abdominal cramps, absentmindedness, acne, aggressiveness, alcohol intolerance, angry outbursts, anxiety, argumentativeness, asthma, back pain, balance problems, being accident-prone, breast swelling and pain, compulsive eating, confusion, constipation, cravings for salty or sweet foods, crying jags, decreased energy, depression, diarrhea, difficulty concentrating, dizziness, edema (visible swelling, particularly in the hands, feet, and legs), edginess, energy bursts, fainting, fatigue, feeling out of control, food binges, fuzzy thinking, greasy hair, headaches, heart palpitations, hives, hopelessness, indecision, insomnia, irritability, judgment lapses, lack of coordination, lethargy, libido changes, loneliness, lowered self-esteem, migraines, mood swings, muscle aches, nausea, overeating, panic attacks, pelvic cramps, sadness, sinus problems, sore throat, tearfulness, tension, urinary problems, weight gain.

Actually—and you’ll have to hold on to your hats for this one—contrary to popular wisdom and all those time-worn complaints about our raging hormones, there is no real evidence of a hormonal basis for PMS.

Did that sink in yet? We’re frankly still processing it ourselves. And this isn’t some kind of crazy conspiracy theory being pushed by either hard-core feminists or woman-hating reactionaries; this is hard, scientific fact. In other words, women who claim to suffer from PMS and women who don’t have literally identical hormonal cycles.

What’s more, there is absolutely no diagnostic test in the world that can conclusively determine whether or not a woman actually has PMS: no blood test, no monitor, no scientific way to detect traces of crazy-making chemicals lurking in our saliva or hair follicles or whatever. There is some evidence, given the prevalence of PMS among twins, that there may be a genetic component … but what that is is anyone’s guess. Currently, researchers have been focusing on the possible effect of sex hormones on central nervous system neurotransmitters. Nevertheless, when it comes to concrete theories about what actually causes PMS, it appears as if researchers are still spitting in the air.