Screaming, crying, throwing up…but it’s “just period cramps”
I stumbled into my shower to let warm water cascade down my back. Collapsing on my knees, I vomited all over the floor. Through sobs, I willed myself not to succumb to my dimming vision. The water feels like a promise of protection but does little to nothing to ease the gnawing pangs in my gut. It continues to flow, and the bathroom floor turns a deep scarlet red. Everything is dull and muted except the pain ripping through my midsection.
No, I hadn’t been stabbed in the stomach with a knife. I was experiencing my monthly bout of the most intense period cramps.
Image credit: @microfibrils via Tumblr
For some women, menstruation is simply a phenomenon of monthly bleeds with slight discomfort in their lower abdomen, or even, close to no sensation. But for many others, it is an unimaginably painful experience, to the point where it disrupts their lives. Dysmenorrhea – the medical term for moderate to severe pain during menstruation – is common, but that does not necessarily mean that it is normal.
This is my story of the agonising period pains I’ve had to deal with for years, the gynecologic condition that causes my dysmenorrhea, as well as society-imposed menstrual taboos weaponised against women.
I’d be crying and writhing in agony, then passing out from the pain
Image credit: @get_rael via Instagram
Remember how pads and tampons are advertised on TV? Laughing young women are seen frolicking in a blooming meadow and having the time of their lives, or holding effortless splits in yoga classes – such lies.
The horror story did not start till I was in my early 20s. My menstrual cycles were normal and perfectly well-behaved throughout my schooling days, and any sort of discomfort felt were dull aches or soreness just below my stomach at most. Nothing so debilitating that they affected my daily life.
When I turned 22, all hell broke loose.
I was on a vacation with my family, chilling in the hotel room and blissfully unaware of what was looming, when I felt the familiar churns of cramps brewing in my stomach. Before I could glumly register that my period must have arrived, I was doubled over, hit with the most unbelievable pain imaginable.
Unable to even fathom such pain – Are these cramps? Or am I dying? – I spent the next hour crying, dry-heaving, and writhing in pain, much to my family’s bewilderment, before I was rushed to the nearest hospital to be injected with painkillers.
That month, I prayed for this awful incident to be the one rare instance my cramps decided to act up for some reason…fat chance. Since that day, my uterus goes as berserk every period cycle without fail – if not with more ferocity in certain months. And they strike without warning.
Image credit: @jellyart via Tumblr
I’d be keeled over my books during classes, or screaming in bed with my parents watching me helplessly, or crawling back home in pain after a jog outside my place as I eked out a series of forced “I’m fine” at startled neighbours.
Countless times I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night to heavy blood flow and excruciating pain in my entire pelvic area and back, and all there is to do is to will the storm to pass. When it finally does, I’m usually left exhausted and shivering in a cold sweat, with my limbs numb from all the clenching and tensing.
So this is what it is like, I realised in horror. It dawned on me that I was lucky enough to have lived in the oblivion of what dysmenorrhea is actually like for many years, and of all the times I’ve whined about the blood leaking out onto my pants being the worst thing that my period could’ve cursed me with.
I used to pity my female friends, white-faced and passed out from their cramps, and waving their agony off as a case of low pain tolerance.
Image credit: @the.happy.pelvis via Instagram
“It’s like someone is wringing my uterus dry of the blood,” I explained to my boyfriend after he’d half-dragged me to the car from the public park when the cramps hit me mid-run one morning, my stricken face and ugly sobs earning bizarre stares from strangers.
“And when that has passed, there are the angry gnomes”–I said, in a desperate attempt to make him understand that the alarming episode was caused by a pain that was very real and very physical, and not just in my head–“wielding mallets in my pelvic, and hammering away at my insides.”
This goes on in waves, unending for hours.
Eventually diagnosed with adenomyosis by a gynaecologist
Nearly passing out in the shower was my last straw, and I finally decided to pursue a medical basis for my episodes. Sure, period cramps are supposed to be painful, but to be fainting and throwing up from them? I couldn’t live like this.
The gynaecologist took one look at the results of my ultrasound scans and tutted sympathetically.
“You have adenomyosis.”
Adeno-what? I started. I couldn’t believe that there was actually a medical term for my crazy period dramas.
“See, the back muscles of your uterus are almost twice the size of your front uterus muscles.”
She proceeded to explain that it could be due to the growth of endometrial tissues – which commonly line the insides of the uterus – within the inner muscular walls of the uterus. This causes the uterus to enlarge, subsequently leading to symptoms including heavy menstrual bleeding and dysmenorrhea.
Meet adenomyosis, the evil twin sister of endometriosis.
It is a condition very similar to endometriosis, wherein the lining of the uterus grows outside the uterus. Most patients experience one or the other, but it is not uncommon for a woman to have both. Adenomyosis and endometriosis affect 1 in every 10 women in most regions, though it is believed that the number is significantly higher due to underreporting or misdiagnosis – basically, because most of us were told to “suck it up!”.
Now, here comes the cruel joke – there is no real cure. There’s no pill to pop for a quick fix or a magic bullet that can make these conditions just disappear, merely treatments that may offer some relief.
Disclaimer: Illustration and comments are not an accurate depiction of the consultation that took place. Sarcasm is entirely the author’s.
The thing is, these conditions are complex, and involve a whole lot of factors – hormonal imbalances, genetic predispositions, immune system responses and so many more – hence, there is no root cause to be tackled. We can only manage the symptoms, but not eliminate the conditions entirely.
I gaped at my gynaecologist, stumped for words.
Guess I’m still stuck with good ol’ Ponstan.
“It isn’t your fault,” she said gently. “This happens because we are women, and women have periods. It isn’t your fault.”
I walked out of the hospital feeling ridiculously relieved that my condition was acknowledged – and in some twisted way, that I wasn’t the only one experiencing it.
“Why you so drama?”
Say it louder, Rachel Green.
Image credit: AwkwardlyUncomfortable via Imgur
There I was in the library on campus, trying to hold myself together whilst battling the storm inside my abdomen – you know, the average period drama that could make a grown man cry. Enter: a fellow male coursemate who, with all the confidence of someone who’s never had a uterus, sidled up to me with an amused smirk.
“Wah, cramps? Where got so pain wan? Why you so drama?”
Years later, I still fantasise about the many ways I should’ve socked him in his nuts. Except that I probably couldn’t because I was in too much pain then to lift a finger, or to even care.
Of course, for the most part, I have received the utmost empathy, comfort, and compassion from so many around me – family, friends, colleagues, and the amazing community of endobabes and adenobabes – but there are still many who do not truly comprehend the weight of such gynaecological conditions on a woman’s body.
And it is these belittling comments, microaggressions, or downright dismissiveness as such that continue to fuel the deep-rooted misunderstanding of menstruation and period cramps – conditions that are so universal.
If I wasn’t physically drained from the pain, I was running a mental and emotional marathon.
I am constantly dreading the looming pain when the dates of my period draw closer. I would avoid public outings and going on my daily runs, and basically be reduced to a sulking, brooding entity just moping about my room, waiting for the worst to come.
Alongside the constant anxiety, I was concerned about how my work would be affected. What would my supervisors think if I took an MC because of period cramps? Is it a valid enough “excuse”? What if I run out of sick days?
Period cramps are more than “just a little pain”, the mental toll on those living with it is immense. There are women who have lost jobs because of it, women who can’t have kids, women who are depressed, and women who have overdosed on painkillers.
It isn’t all that far-fetched to say that it can ruin lives.
What helped make my menstrual cramps a tad more bearable
The very, very slim silver lining for those struggling with dysmenorrhea, endometriosis, adenomyosis, or any such conditions is that with the right tools, we can navigate life with some relief.
Familiar advice to support overall health, in general, is crucial – a healthy diet and eating habits help, being consistent with your supplement intake, and staying active for those happy little chemicals to boost the good vibes. For me, I do my best to avoid too much movement when my cycle comes around.
A fuzzy hot water bottle, a heating pad and lots of warm soup are essentials in my make-me-feel-better period kit.
Crying out loud and cursing help, sometimes.
My best bet? Swallow a painkiller or two, and pray for the endless cycle of tightening, throbbing and twisting to end.
Again, there is no cure. These are merely preventative steps that may not necessarily diffuse the pain.
Eliminating the societally imposed menstrual stigma
When it comes to period horror stories, what we hear is often associated with incidents of blood leakages – somehow always told in a humorous and light-hearted way – but no one seems to talk about the pain.
Menstruation is a powerful and important event that has nearly half the population experiencing period cramps monthly, so why do women have to find it difficult to speak openly about their struggles? It is ridiculous how such a natural process has been so misogynistically twisted in a variety of ways to stereotype the women population as a ticking time bomb of hysteria.
Heaven forbid a woman expresses too much within the spectrum of human emotions, or she’ll be called out for going through “that time of the month”. Must be the hormones and uterus driving her insane, amirite?
At the end of the day, women get the short end of the stick when it comes to periods. The sense of shame that shrouds menstruation from what society understands it to be only pushes women further into silence, and eventually, puts many at risk of potentially serious health issues.
For me, the pain is unbearable, yes. But what hurts more is the reaction of others, who deny my torment, or even ask for proof. I have always felt the need to justify my pain – one that is so abnormal and exaggerated to society – by providing some sort of evidence to show that it is a distressing part of my existence.
So, here I am sharing my vulnerable experience, in hopes that it strengthens the voice against the topic of menstruation and period cramps, so women will not have to suffer in silence alone.
Read more perspectives:
- I was lured into an elaborate crypto scam, it all began on Telegram
- I was called “Fei Zai” throughout my childhood but pushed myself to finish a tower run
- We spoke to a masseuse who lost her vision in her 20s & found light in the dark
Illustrations by Jia-Ju.
Cover image adapted from: Jia-Ju