Hysteria
Do you know where the word hysteria comes from? The origins trace back to 19th century Europe when the word, derived from the Greek hystera (meaning uterus) was used to describe a state of uncontrollable emotion in women caused by disturbances of the uterus. It seems somewhat sexist, doesn’t it? But perhaps it has a grain of truth.
Premenopausal women may be disturbed by their uteri or uteruses (apparently both are acceptable plural forms) in a cyclic manner. If you’re a woman reading this, perhaps you, your sister, or one of your female friends has experienced painful and debilitating menstrual periods and/or mood swings. If you’re a man reading this, perhaps your mother, your sister, or your female partner has complained of their time of the month. As a pre-menopausal woman, for most of my life I’ve had the good fortune of not knowing what it’s like to have painful periods or mood swings related to them. Maybe I’ve experienced the occasional bout of hysteria, but I don’t think it was uterus-related, at least not until more recently.
For the past several months, I’ve been experiencing my own personal hysteria, either real, imagined, or a combination of the two. It all started several months ago when I noticed that my periods were becoming more like commas. They evolved from an acceptable 7-day stint to an eventual 14+ days of continued bleeding. I didn’t think anything of it at first, except to note with annoyance that I was purchasing feminine hygiene products more frequently than usual. As the weeks wore on, I noticed bleeding appearing at the most inopportune moments, sometimes accompanied by cramping and back pain. I started feeling uneasy, perhaps hysteria started to take hold. My uterus seemed to be ruling my days, forcing me to inspect daily for signs of bleeding, to remember to pack reinforcements when going out, to worry about potential accidents.
I visited my family doc for a routine physical and mentioned the changes. She seemed unconcerned, but offered a few tests which I agreed to with a sense of relief. Fortunately, my uterus was declared normal, but feelings of hysteria persisted. Is it all in my head, or is a sub-detectable process of derangement unfolding within, taking over my body and mind? To appease my anxiety, my family doc referred me to a specialist.
As I waited for my specialist appointment, my uterus ruled me like it never had before. I settled into a disturbing pattern of commas in lieu of an established period. Welcome to hysteria, my uterus seemed to be telling me. I watched the toilet bowl as bloody bits of my uterine lining fell into it, swirling around in defiance. My emotions swirled around in my head. I felt guilty for not understanding the plight of my female friends when they complained of their time of the month. I cried more easily than usual. Perhaps this was punishment for never having had children; my uterus protesting that it had no purpose and therefore no need to stay intact.
As I await a somewhat invasive test to find out more definitively what’s going on, I wonder about hysteria and the future of my relationship with my uterus. Will it continue to rule my existence, or will we part ways prematurely? Will it ever serve a higher purpose, or will it shrivel up and die? My burning question is once it’s gone, will the hysteria disappear with it?
