The Rollercoaster of Motherhood with ADHD, Mental Health, and PMDD

Motherhood is a wild ride under the best of circumstances, but throw ADHD, mental health challenges, and PMDD into the mix, and it’s like trying to ride a rollercoaster while blindfolded, holding a toddler on your hip, and balancing a coffee cup on your head. Add in a son on the spectrum (who is just as unpredictable as my emotions during PMDD) and it turns into a whole different level of chaos. Spoiler alert: I’m not actually crazy—I just have ADHD. And when PMDD kicks in, let’s just say I’ve had a few moments where I’ve considered moving to a remote island with no internet (and no kids).

But hey, some days, the fact that we’re all still alive and the laundry's half folded feels like a huge win.

PMDD & The ‘Other You`

First of all, all I can hear is you saying, "What is PMDD?"

So here a great link fir more understanding What is PMDD?

Let’s talk about PMDD—the emotional hurricane that rolls in every month without warning. One minute, I’m fine (well, as fine as someone with ADHD and mental health challenges can be), and the next, I’m a completely different person. It’s like I step into a body-swap movie where I’m trapped in the mind of someone who’s about to snap over the smallest things. Like when the kids leave their toys on the floor for the millionth time and it feels like a personal betrayal.

During these days, patience is non-existent, energy is zero, and I often feel like I’m in a fog that makes it hard to even get out of bed, let alone handle my kids' constant needs. And on top of all that, my ADHD comes to blow—everything feels louder, more chaotic, and I can’t keep my thoughts or actions under control. This is when things tend to get a little more messy, and I know it affects my kids. It’s also the time when my son, who’s on the spectrum, and I have the hardest time connecting. With both of us struggling to manage our emotions, it feels like we’re constantly butting heads, unable to find common ground. The smallest miscommunication or delay in reaction feels like an emotional explosion, and it’s hard for either of us to understand what the other needs.

But in the chaos, I’ve learned that honesty is my best tool. I try to explain everything to my kids—why I’m acting the way I do, how mummy is doing everything she can to help herself feel better, and why sometimes I need a little extra space or time. I want them to understand that my emotional outbursts or lack of patience aren’t a reflection of how much I love them; they’re just part of the crazy, hormonal rollercoaster that comes with PMDD.

I’ve realized that being honest with them about my struggles is the best policy—it helps them feel less confused when they see me at my worst, and it builds a deeper sense of trust between us. And somehow, they get it. They’ll offer me a hug when they can see I’m struggling or gently remind me to take a breather before things go south. It’s humbling how these little humans have such an incredible understanding of the world, even when I’m not sure I do.

Even though PMDD and my ADHD make me feel like I’m a different version of myself for a while, and it puts a strain on my relationship with my son, it’s comforting to know that my kids can still love me, even when I’m navigating a battle I can’t fully control. It’s not always pretty, but we get through it together.

So… How Am I Dealing With It?

Honestly? Some days, I don’t feel like I’m dealing with it at all. But I am trying. Here’s what’s actually been helping (and what absolutely doesn’t).

What’s Actually Helping:

Antidepressants & The Mini Pill – I finally admitted I needed help and started antidepressants to stop my brain from convincing me that everything is awful and I should probably set fire to my entire life. I’ve also started the mini pill to try and regulate my hormones. It’s early days, but so far, I haven’t had an existential crisis over dropping a spoon, so I’d call that progress.

Honesty with My Kids & Husband – Being upfront about what’s happening helps so much. It stops the guessing game and gives them a way to support me instead of just dodging my mood swings.

Tracking Symptoms – Knowing when PMDD is coming means I can try (key word: try) to prepare myself. Some months I forget, then wonder why I suddenly hate the world—then I check my tracker and go, "Oh. That explains a lot."

Rest, Even When I Feel Useless – I hate stopping. I hate feeling like I’m not ‘doing enough.’ But when I actually listen to my body and rest, the entire week doesn’t turn into a disaster.

Giving Myself Permission to Feel Crap – Fighting it makes it worse. I’ve learned to just accept that these days will suck, ride it out, and remind myself that I won’t feel like this forever.

What Definitely Doesn’t Help:

Telling Myself to ‘Get Over It’ – Spoiler: That doesn’t work. At all.

Ignoring It & Pushing Through – It’s like pretending a hurricane isn’t happening and expecting to walk outside without getting blown away. PMDD will knock me on my ass whether I acknowledge it or not, so I might as well deal with it head-on.

Pepsi Max (My One True Weakness) – I know caffeine makes everything worse, but Pepsi Max is one of my favorite stims and sensations. The fizz, the taste, the coldness—it’s perfect. Cutting it out entirely? Not happening. But I am trying to find some kind of balance, like limiting how much I have or swapping every other drink for water. (Some days, though, I just call it self-care and move on.)

Finding Peace in the Chaos

PMDD is a part of my life that I can’t ignore, and while it doesn’t define me, it’s something I have to navigate every month. Some days are pure chaos, and the emotional waves feel impossible to ride. But even on the toughest days, I remind myself that I’m doing my best. It’s easy to let the symptoms make me feel broken, but every time I push through, I’m proving that I’m not. I’m human, and this is just one part of my journey.

What I’ve learned is that it’s okay to not have everything figured out. It’s okay to need help, to have hard days, and to admit when I’m struggling. PMDD may try to take over, but it doesn’t define who I am or how much love and care I have to give.

To anyone else battling this—you're not alone. PMDD is tough, and while it’s a long-term part of our lives, that doesn’t mean we can’t find ways to manage it. There will always be ups and downs, but even in the chaos, there’s room for small victories, for rest, and for moments of peace. We don’t need to be perfect, we just need to be real.

Here’s to showing up for ourselves, even when it feels impossible, and finding strength in the mess. You’ve got this.