Every twenty-nine days, Emma Hardy is an absolute mess. She is irritable, depressed, angry, weepy, out of control. She lays in bed, stares at the walls for hours. Then it passes, and she forgets about it. When a doctor diagnoses her with PMDD, premenstrual dysphoric disorder, she begins to question when a mood is just a mood, and when a mood becomes an illness.
Searching for truth between the myths and taboos that surround menstruation, Hardy stumbles across crime scenes, feminist horrors and the history of women who have been institutionalised for hysterical illnesses.
Unwaveringly honest, perspicacious, brilliant and endearing, Periodic Bitch offers a new understanding of our beliefs about illness and the stories we tell, and announces Hardy as a profoundly talented new voice.
'A beautiful literary memoir that is part detective story, part love story ... For those with PMDD, Periodic Bitch will be transformative—but all readers will gasp and admire how Emma Hardy captures the moment-by-moment experience of being alive.' JESSICA STANLEY, author of Consider Yourself Kissed
'Periodic Bitch is much more than a medical memoir, it is an unflinching exploration of what it means to be human. ... I learnt a great deal from this book—as a health professional, as a woman, but most of all as a human being trying to create a pocket of space for myself in the world.' MELANIE CHENG, author of The Burrow
I’m quite over reading COVID woven literature/memoirs. It was importantly to this memoir and to relay throughout, but personally I’ve reached my fill of COVID tales. I understood what Hardy was relating with the mythologies but also wasn’t overly interested in this aspect either. Hardy’s experience with medical professionals and navigating pharmacology, self-advocacy and personal relationships was the most interesting component to this book.
Weaving folklore, myth and historical data with women’s (health) experiences in general and her own experiences with PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder) in particular, as they unfolded during Melbourne’s Covid lockdowns - I was sat. I don’t usually read NF or memoirs, this caught my eye at the bookstore with its super cool cover and well, chalk it up as a win for the girlies who choose their books by the cover 😂 I came out of this reading experience with a whole bunch of books and movies added to my read/watch list.
Holy Dooley. What a great book. I think anyone who experiences the menstrual cycle would love this memoir. It was so exposing and detailed and dark, but also felt so real and hopeful. I am angry at science and the lack of funding for women’s health. I am angry at doctors who don’t listen to women. I am angry at the patriarchy. This book made me feel understood. Gah, give it a go. Loved all the witchy-ness in it too!
Definitely an important book and quite cathartic to read an account of living with pmdd that’s described with so much clarity and accuracy. I did find it quite heavy at times but that’s likely because it mirrored my experiences with medication so closely. I also don’t love reading books set in Covid times personally…. would be curious to know how friends without pmdd find it!
This was a very very cool and insightful read - vulnerable and poetic. I don’t have PMDD, but reading this was a cathartic experience. Keen to see what Emma Hardy cooks up next!
Love love love love love!!! The best book about Covid so far (it’s a love story 😍) meets deep dive into monsters (literal) and PMDD. Read it in one sitting
I loved this. Spotted it on the shelves in store and was taken immediately. I was intrigued by the premise and I very much enjoyed the folkloric and pop culture references. Definitely worth reading for all my perimenopausal queens, this book grants us permission to be angry and sad and all those parts of ourselves that battle each month. This book found me at exactly the right time!
This book is so amazing! I loved it from the first page to the last page. The authors voice is just so beautiful and interwoven and it was a joy to read. I just loved so much about this book, it really made me realise why I love reading. Spending a weekend in bed reading this was so satisfying. It made me learn, it made me reflect, it made laugh, hands down a book I will always recommend and what a debuting book from the author!
One reviewer wrote that this was “part detective story” but for me, the inserts of essay into a memoir were jarring. I’m not sure this memoir needed to spend as much time as it did academically exploring medical misogyny in pharmaceuticals, the point could have been made within the framework of a memoir.
As someone who lived through the Melbourne (and then London) lockdowns I thought the mental health impacts of extended isolation were rendered accurately and there was real nuance in the way the writing captured feelings of stagnation, disconnection and disbelief. The author’s rendering of her own feelings around the validity of mental and physical illness rang true for me.
I read this as a digital ARC thanks to Allen & Unwin and Netgalley, and this is my honest review.
Period Bitch was chaotic with its meandering back and forth through topics without warning and while it was occasionally frustrating, I did appreciate how it linked and interwove the topics together. It also seemed to reflect Emma Hardy’s state of mind and how she struggled to get complete answers through her PMDD process, almost poeticly, so I can forgive it that
As someone who may also have PMDD, this book is so insightful. I know this was a memoir, and memoirs do not need to be confirmed as fact, so the emphasis on anecdotes and personal experience is the point. however, to see similarities and differences in another’s experience is so validating and helpful.
It has also made me want to know more about current and historical treatment of female patients (fact checked of course). I want to understand why women must suffer so much, but not too much (then it’s just hysterical), to receive understanding and care. Why is the pill still the answer for everything? Why are we told again and again that there is no cure, no treatment, no understanding of why something is happening (it’s always “just one of those things”)? Why does research into women’s health always feel secondary and lazy, a by product of reproduction or men’s health?
Overall though, my favourite parts of this book were the comparisons of pop culture and horror with PMDD and women’s health more generally, highlighting how things women are culturally demonised for show up in media again and again, sometimes to challenge but sometimes to reinforce. i just loved the way it gave us so many interesting and thought prokoving tidbits. I would have loved it to go deeper, I want more of this, I want essays on each minor tidbit! But here’s an example…
“In some ways, it is obvious why eating is a frequent subject in the horror genre: we do not want to be eaten. Still, time and time again, it is specifically women who devour and become monstrous. I can think of few narratives featuring women quenching their appetites that are not coded as horror. No wonder it’s when I feel like my most monstrous self that I begin to fear food. How can any woman not fear her own hunger when the act of satiation is deemed so terrific?”
Thank you Allen & Unwin and Netgalley for an ARC of this memoir.
Emma Hardy’s memoir is founded on her living with Pre Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD). It is heavily entwined within horror, myth and feminist research. It is a very well researched memoir citing numerous sources, including the criminal trial of Craddock, convicted of murder whilst likely in the throes of PMDD; and drawing on the books Raw and The Vegetarian, where hardy highlights links between raw meat and desire.
For some readers this approach will be heavily appealing, however it detracted from my reading experience. I chose this book as a memoir to understand Emma’s lived experience of having PMDD and get an understanding of this Disorder. I would be reading a sentence about Emma’s day and it would suddenly spiral into the horrors of raw meat, madness and historical mania. I admire the seamless way this occurred however it really detracted from my experience. I initiated read through these parts but they really detracted my interest in this memoir and I eventually skipped large chunks of the memoir, coming back into to Emma’s life when she returned.
The memoir is set throughout COVID lockdown and this become an often significant part do the lockdown which fitted mostly well and contributed to the experiences Emma had in those times, in isolation, pain and often hysteria. Unsurprisingly Emma came across as full of anger and I often wondered which parts of the memoir where Dinky and which parts were Emma in full PMDD hell. I most enjoyed the parts closer to the end where Emma seems to be getting the help she desperately sought, thank goodness. The medical and psychological content really brought my attention back and I was incredibly engaged in these parts however they were a shorter part of the memoir. This memoir highlights the hell those with PMDD, their loved ones and associates go through on a monthly basis. I really would love to hear Pavel’s story and experience of this, I’m sure there is a book there too. I did feel the book ended very abruptly.
Thank you for the opportunity to read and review this memoir. This is a memoir which would appeal to a select audience and I believe would benefit from a different summary for would be readers, perhaps one that likens it to dark, mythical horror as opposed to an investigative mystery.
"Hormones can be debilitating, and a culture can be debilitating too." I varied on whether I liked and believed the author, Emma Hardy, and I get the impression that she varied on liking and believing herself too. Periodic Bitch is a memoir about trying to understand symptoms that only occur some of the time, set in a chaotic time period - lockdown - in the place which had more lockdowns than any other, Melbourne. This adds doubt to the writer's voice: "I cannot account for my environment, either. I cannot know how I would feel were I not a caged animal, trapped indoors." The rest of her doubt is of course gendered medical gaslighting and a feminism that doesn't start from a base presumption of believing women.
In places Periodic Bitch reads like an honours thesis, as Hardy explores the pathologising of women's reproductive and mental ill-health, likening us to monsters. At first I found the glib summaries of other people's work a bit annoying. I've read In the Dream House for example, and I didn't necessarily take from it the same things. However the writing gets more engaging as Hardy struggles to match her periodic symptomatology with a diagnosis she agrees with—Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD)—and a treatment for it that works without unwanted side effects.
What did have me cheering was Hardy's analysis of imperfect options in women's health, like pills that have unwanted side effects, and treatments not really moving on sufficiently because of the gendered disparity in medical research. As Hardy writes, "It feels unfair to subject myself to constant medication and endless side effects, to treat an illness that only plagues me some of the time." Women do deserve better. Where I flagged was in the section about Prozac working the second she took the tablet, it undermined the diagnosis being legitimate for me. For example, lines like "just because a placebo works, doesn't mean the illness isn't real."
With thanks to NetGalley and Allen & Unwin for sending me a copy to read.
Emma Hardy’s debut Periodic Bitch not only has a smashing title, but tackles a subject that has long been treated as taboo: women’s periods and menstrual health. Hardy shares her experience of living with Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD), charting both the difficulty of getting diagnosed and the enormous disruption the condition caused in her life. She underpins her personal story with a history of the language surrounding women’s health and a sharp social commentary on how routinely these experiences are minimised or misunderstood.
I met Emma when she was in the grips of this, and it is telling that even though what I saw was a vibrant and funny improv teacher, she was privately managing an extraordinarily difficult condition. That tension between outward competence and inward struggle gives the book much of its emotional power.
Hardy writes with humour and clarity, which makes the book accessible even as it explores painful and frustrating experiences. The blend of memoir, research, and cultural critique works especially well, because it never feels overly clinical or detached.
This is a book worth reading not only to better understand PMDD, but also to see how women’s health has historically been sidelined and obscured. Recent estimates suggest that between three and eight percent of women live with PMDD, meaning there are likely many people enduring it without recognising the condition or knowing support is available.
I highly recommend Periodic Bitch. It is an insightful, well written, and deeply human account that deserves a wide readership especially among people who think they already understand women’s health.
What a brilliant debut, Emma has brilliantly intertwined a memoir about the complex nature of the female body within a critical and historical time (COVID).
She not only discusses the current problems with healthcare and the fact women have limited resources and studies done on PMDD. She also highlights the historical articles where women were described as animalistic and were compare to werewolves with the animalistic instincts.
Personally I don't have PMDD or PMS but I've had friend who have got it and this personally have me insight to how they might be thinking. I really believe that any women should pick this book up as it sheds a light on illness and how loud women have to be for them to be heard and be seen and taken seriously.
Thank you so much Allen and Unwin for the advanced copy.
I liked the general vibe of this as very "the truth is out there"; showing the multiple realities of how people experience moods, illness, thoughts and emotions. The way that the author talks about how experiences of illness, suffering and minority stress overlap is the most fascinating part of this. It's also very cathartic to read if you've ever gone through or supported someone through this kind of under-researched, invisible and debilitating diagnosis. It did disappoint me to read how the author seemed to hero-worship Margaret Sanger (who definitely had eugenicist and Malthusian leanings) and dismiss any concept that experiences of/identification with PMDD might be cultural.
I enjoyed aspects of it, but ultimately I came away with no real emotions or feelings towards the book.
I think it was well written in some ways, obviously very well researched, but it was just quite boring in the end.
It’s also such a gamble to mention Covid in any sort of literature. People don’t want to be reminded of their own suffering during this time whilst escaping into a book, and I felt, whilst yes maybe this was a necessary part of her story, the constant addressing of lock downs was possibly overkill. Tell us once this was set during Covid, ok- then we know how shitty that time was, it didn’t need the constant reminders.
"but that could not explain for me the fullness of what they felt" What a perfect example of how this came across. I was very excited for this read but felt so shallow, with constant references to other media without properly utilising how they relate or could explain her own story further it felt like an escape from her own writing because Hardy isn't able to articulate it herself. There is promise here and I don't think this is a bad author but this book was underwhelming and felt childish in its execution. Also Pavan is awful and any of the true anger that was brought up in me about how women are mistreated medically or otherwise and used for a males gain he was the epicentre of that.
This was such a fresh and unique blend of memoir and academic writing. It delved into discussions about menstruation, mental health and the women’s healthcare system, which is always refreshing to read about because there is still such a lack of information and stories about these topics. It also explored really interesting discussion around cultural norms, social attitudes and horror narratives, and how these all come into play when talking about ‘taboo’ aspects of women’s health. A very important, relevant and interesting read.
I read this during my luteal phase as someone with PMDD. It was confronting and comforting both at the same time. Strangely it has inspired me this month and I’m feeling significantly better than I was yesterday even without my period starting. I enjoy Hardy’s writing style as well as her voice in the audio narration of this. I would recommend it for anyone who has moments of being a monster and then coming out of the fog and feeling the hangover shame from it.
for anyone who's ever been a woman in pain: a tale that weaves together literature, psychology, history and medicine to hold your hand in the doubt, grief, rage and madness of simply living.
(I was a bit over covid and the relationship by the end but it's a memoir so maybe they deserve their space)
I really enjoyed this. I was expecting to learn a lot about PMDD and the hormonal shifts of women, what I wasn’t expecting was to learn so much about my own experiences of COVID lockdowns and the unique challenges this has as a result of neurodivergence and other hormonal factors. Really loved the connections to depictions of women in culture and media. Thank you for sharing!
“Our life is beautiful” I think to myself. Then I remember the lifeline thing and stuffer a laugh. How can I be so catatonic one moment and at peace the next? I barely remember who I was the day before. 🤌🤌🤌