I've come to realize that there are certain times in my life that I need to remove myself from the general population for both my own sake and for the sake of everyone else. This time happens every month...
Yes, I'm talking about my time of the month.
I get serious PMS. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 (unless that money is for chocolate, potato chips, coffee, muscle relaxers and wine), I go from semi-bitch to raging bitch in 2.5 seconds. My hormones are crazy, I cry at the drop of a hat, and nothing makes me happy. On top of all of this, my face breaks out like a 15 year old. For crying out loud, I'm 31. This shit shouldn't happen anymore.
|Courtesy of How Many Are There?|
The next symptom that pops up is the acne. My face turns into pepperoni pizza, and I have to steal my daughter's zit cream. Yeah, that's fun, right?
Then the bitchiness takes over. I'm not happy being lazy or being productive. One minute I'm telling the kids they can't go outside to play, then the next minute I'm screaming at them to get as far away from me and the house as they can. And Hubby? He can't do a damn thing right for a week straight no
matter what he's doing. He gets the brunt of it, but I'm sure that's just because he's the biggest target. And, he's a men, and when I'm on my period, men suck.
The final stage makes the bitchiness completely consume me- the My Pants No Longer Fit Because of Bloating stage. I'm already down to 3 pairs of jeans that are comfortable on me as it is, and during my PMS session, even those don't fit. Nothing makes you want to crawl into bed and cry more than not fitting into any clothes except for your fat lounging pants (and let me tell you, I'm about 99% sure my fat pants are maternity. I got them on the clearance rack and they were missing an outside tag, but they go up to my boobs and say they are a large). I'm already a raging bitch, and now looking like ass on top of feeling like ass makes me hate the world.
This is all before my actual period starts. Once that begins, it's all over. Hot Mess Mom described it best in her post "If you are a man.. you do NOT want to read this" referring to the pain she goes through each month as having "labia-ninjas". Seriously, that's me. I'll be walking through the store and all of a sudden have shooting pains in my vag. Then they'll disappear. I've described it in the past as feeling like my vagina is trying to eat my body from the inside, or pack itself up and run right out of me. It sucks... majorly.
All of this from start to finish, for over a week of my life- almost 2 weeks. Every. Single. Month. I'm tired of it. I've handed Hubby a knife before and told him to just cut my uterus out of me. He has yet to do it, either out of love for me, or out of a sadistic enjoyment of watching my womanhood torture me every month. I haven't decided which it is yet.
|Courtesy of USDoctor|
This is the shit that happens when my PMS starts. All of the things that I think in my head on a regular basis, I act upon. I comment on stuff I shouldn't comment on. I wake up in the morning on election day and immediately post a personal status on facebook that people need to keep their election bullshit to themselves and if any of them tell me I'm unAmerican for not voting, I'll defriend them immediately. I jump all over a woman because she wrote a nothing-article... who cares if she wrote a nothing-article? The article didn't even pertain to me. And yet, I jumped all in her Kool-Aid without knowing the flavor.
Seriously, once a month I need to be locked away in a room and fed pancakes under the door. Better yet, I need to climb into bed with a box of truffles, a bag of cheesy poofs, a bottle of wine and movies like "Magic Mike", "The Notebook" or "Sweet Home Alabama". But no, I'm a mom with responsibilities. I have dinners to cook and lunches to pack and homework to check and laundry to do... even though the more interaction I have with anyone besides myself and the cats, the more the possibility that someone will get injured, either physically or emotionally.
Does anyone out there actually get time off during this time of the month? Any understanding husbands that let you hide away for even one night? I'd love to know! And, any ideas on comfort stuffs to try and help make this better is great appreciated, too.
And if y'all notice I'm a raging bitch or extra sensitive on facebook around this time each month, just tell me to grab my truffles and wine and go to time out. It'd be for the best of everyone if I did so.