>Besides from the occasional bouts of I don’t know what I slip into I also have the monthly demon I have to deal with. For most of the month I am a normal functioning human being – well normal is a relative term – functioning human being, I am rational and my voice does not have an hysterical sounding edge to it when I speak. But there comes a time of the month when the Beast comes out to play. Sometimes I manage to keep the Beast locked in his box, sometimes I keep him in the box and he just snarls through the opening in the lid, sometimes the lid comes off completely and he comes out in all his glory.
I first noticed the arrival of the Beast a couple of days ago, when I managed to slightly over react and may have shouted at the Husband a little. While the alleged incident was taking place the Husband said to me “you see! PMS, that is the only reason you are shouting”. I said “I don’t have PMS, I’m shouting because you are PISSSSINGGG ME OOOOOFFFFF, no other reason”. Ha in your eye! When the alleged incident was over I did have a peek on my calendar and noticed that it may ever so slightly be PMS aka the Beast.
When I woke up this morning I decided that I would just have a quiet day. Keep to myself and all that. It’s safer for everyone especially me. Besides from being completely irrational when the Beast takes over, I also become over-sensitive to the extreme so I take absolutely everything extremely personally and become even more insecure. So I either become mental or I cry hysterically. So I shut the f*ck up, sit in the corner and try to avoid as much as possible. Instead I went on an OCD research spree into ethical products and cosmetics, research is good for me OK, it helps me focus the Beast on something constructive. Now the Husband, idiot that he is, intentionally provokes me. Honestly who pokes a raging mad thing with a stick? Seriously. He said something along the lines of “How is testing on animals bad?” that made me get heart palpitations and want to stick him in the eye with a fork. Seriously. But he does it on purpose because he KNOWS it will make me cross. I don’t understand why would you do that to someone?
I wonder who I can petition to have a law passed that woman who suffer from PMS be allowed to stay at home for that week. Seriously when I’m like this I should not be left out the house. I get SO angry in traffic that I literally get heart palpitations, I am not even embellishing the truth slightly. I have these vivid flights of fantasy where I calmly ram my car into the asshole who just cut infront of me. Luckily for everyone else my car broke down for 15 minutes and focused my attention on it rather than the assholes who drive like assholes.
Then I got home to the Husband who has Bronchitis, oh my fuck spare me the frikkin drama. This morning he was fine, and the people at work managed to convince him that he is deathly ill, went to the doctor and seriously doctors will tell you exactly what you want to hear. So now we have Bronchitis. Then he proceeded to complain about the dog who just peed along the entire length of the bedroom wall. And then we had another screaming match. Seriously, don’t make your problems mine, you wanted the dog, you deal with it. I’m done. Finished. You know what to do. Do it! I do not want to hear about it.
It takes every inch of restraint I have to not loose it at work, to get through the day without poking someone in the eye with my pen or embedding a stapler in their skull or telling a client to “Have a lovely day and fuck the hell off”, I smile and I try my hardest to disguise the edge in my voice. So when I get home I just want to feel safe and nurtured, I don’t want to be poked and prodded at and intentionally provoked. I want love and maybe a hug and then I want to be left alone. I really have no control over this. I know I’m being irrational, but there is nothing I can do to stop it. This time of the month is very hard on me emotionally and physically and there is nothing else to do but go through it. Some months are better than others. But I always at some point silently scream “what is wrong with me” and wonder if I should be on some kind of medication.
I read two amazingly interesting blog posts today by the fabulous Wenchy and The Reluctant Mom that hit me like a ton of bricks. But I’m not ready to delve into that yet. I think I need to think about it some more. I just wanted to say that. They both write so beautifully and use beautifully descriptive words and have well structured posts. I have “fuck” and “asshole” and my thoughts jump a lot, not the most original words or pulitzer price winning writing but it brings the point across. Who decided that “fuck” is a bad word anyways, it’s way more expressive than “oh bother” …