Code red. Birthing a red diamond. Leak week. The red moon is rising. Even though I know better in my 30s, I still loathe my period. I'm trouble anyways, additional hormones not needed. The symptoms of PMS can be agonizing on several levels. I broke up with my boyfriend, my uterus hurts, I look three months pregnant, I snapped at my boss, I'm exhausted, my skin is gross, I had chocolate for dinner and I cry every time I see an elderly dog. We all have our own set of complaints and remedies. Is your period ruining your life?
After four days of PMS, followed by approximately four days of menstruation, I am finally starting to see the light of day again. My boyfriend is not a complete jackass. Thank goodness I had the sense and experience of years of break ups, and break downs, to -- at this time of the month -- completely avoid him. He's a great guy and doesn't deserve my wrath ...this time.
Every month this infuriated, seemingly irrational Hulk-like female warrior comes forth and demands justice in all areas of life.
One minute I'm madly in love and can see no reason to be separated from this marvelous man that has brought such joy and colour to my life. Literally, an hour later, I'm enraged, filled with fury and bitterness. How dare he do this to me! Me! Wait, what did he do?
My email becomes more active as I gain a drunk-like, uninhibited, authentic tongue and hand. I confront others behind my computer about upsetting moments and incidents. I choose email to protect their physicality, a favor really. I generally write these emails with a mindset that I could never regret speaking my truth and I should be doing it more often. And akin to a drunken rant, I awake filled with repent.
For years, I thought the PMS was ruining my life. Every month this infuriated, seemingly irrational Hulk-like female warrior comes forth and demands justice in all areas of life. No one is safe. If you're a woman, this can be the time when everyone is telling you that you're acting crazy and you start to believe it. OK, you might be acting a little nutty, self-destructive, and even literally destructive if you're anything like me. I've been known to break a lamp or two when under the hormonal influence.
I feel I'm falling into a black hole of hateful feelings; unsatisfied with love, work, family, and friends. "No one seems understanding, sympathetic, or compassionate," I think as I glare at all who come into my view. This can last anywhere from 24 hours to seven days, in my case. The first 24 hours always being the worst of it, with the stirring memories of failed expectations. There can be a lot of rebuilding to do after the fact! Thanks to my menstrual cycle, mediocrity never gets me.
This physically painful and mind altering bodily cleansing can be a blessing.
After years of continuously breaking up and getting back together with the same man, I figured out that I most often broke up with him while PMS-ing. I was an early 20-something ignoramus that couldn't quite grasp the fact that, in fact, I was breaking up with him because I did not want to be with him. Oh, but sweet love dragged me back. Sex, admiration, beauty and, of course, daddy issues were among the reasons for returning. Bang, blood time: bye-bye boyfriend. My own power to persuade myself would prevail until the, always unexpected, monthly kick in the crotch would arrive at my uterine doorstep.
So here is what I've learned in my adult years. This physically painful and mind altering bodily cleansing can be a blessing. No, not because you can make a baby in your own personal oven, but because it shows you what you're not looking close enough at. To what have you been lending a blind eye? You know it's true and now here it is in your face (and your pants) whether you want to deal with it or not, it's time to make some changes.
I'm not saying to break up every month and tell everyone to go f**k themselves, quit your job, move to Mexico or hide out in your bed. I mean to say let's rearrange: what am I not being honest with myself about? What have I let slide for too long? Possibly refrain from over-sharing in a moment of a hormone-induced rage. Maybe just make some notes, write a couple drafts to reassess in eight days or so. I'm still learning and applying more discipline each month.
Never in the safe zone, I now live a more cautious existence: listening to my hormones, and seeing if they have anything valid to say. Now I know the difference between the men I need the hell out of my life, and a man that is just being himself despite my irritability.
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