Managing My Menstrual Monster

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Originally posted on December 21, 2009

Current mood:  tested
Category: Life

Ah, and so the healing begins. Putting the ugly Christmas Shopping Monster to bed for another year has freed me up to engage in a little self-reflection. My Conclusion? Nobody's perfect and everybody needs somebody that understands that. With all the running around we did yesterday, I was the most tired I'd ever been, when it wasn't directly related to working, drinking or partying that is. It wasn't until late last night that I discovered that my wayward feelings of woe were not just born from endless errands, but also from the much anticipated arrival of antagonistic Aunt Flo. As tired and cranky as I was yesterday, and for the last few days, I did everything in my power to NOT bite off the head of my very favorite person in the world.  My effort did not go unnoticed either, which made it even easier to "go the way of good" instead of evil. With my carb-longing lessening from my first diet week, I had even more positive energy to bask in.  The excess positivity even influenced my attire today. For a couple of very personal reasons, I chose a very specific, very wrinkled pair of pants to wear to work this morning. Firstly, I'd given up ironing long ago. If it's too wrinkled to wear and a dryer doesn't help, I'm donating it to charity. These hands will never again touch an iron unless I'm drafted into the military and must, by military law, comply with having an iron-crisp uniform. Secondly, in addition to crankiness, exhaustion, nightmares and paranoia, I can also look forward to upwards of a 10-15 pound weight gain around Aunt Flo's visit. However today, I was able to safely wear pants that were 1 numerical digit in size and not fear permanently cutting off my circulation at the waist or wrecking my chances for ever bearing a healthy child. Whatever my size happens to be at any given moment (which can vary), my doctor assures me that my dairy section is in fine working order. Frankly, I'm saving my eggs for Brazilian UFC Middleweight Champion, Anderson "The Spider" Silva (The first Aries man I've ever loved).  I was saving them for Djimon Hounsou but Kimora Lee "Baby Phat" Simmons got to him first. And yes, the single digit size I mentioned earlier is the very last single digit in our numeric system but it's still a 'small' victory to me.  I also accept that a manufacturing error could have mislabeled the true size of these pants, yet I remain victorious. At least once a month, I know I'm an inconsolable monster.  I'm not proud of that but it's the truth.  I can only try to accept that I'm just going to feel that way, until menopause, and do my best to keep the Menstrual Mood Monster at bay. Thankfully, I have exceptional people in my corner that consistently cocoon me with love and understanding because they know the real me. They say that 'beauty is pain' but I submit to you that regular womanhood is far more painful.  For me, there's no real relief from the Monthly Mensies either, I just have to ride it out. Midol don't have shit on Mother Nature! Personally, I think the more mature I get, the better I manage my Menstrual Mood Monster.  Back in the day though, I would've left handprints and deep nail lacerations on the neck of the lippy salesperson I came in contact with in the mall yesterday. My first reaction was going to be to leap over the Piercing Pagoda in the middle of the mall, with Matrix-like precision, and choke her until her eyes rolled back in her empty head. Instead, I said most of what I wanted to say, in the calmest voice I could manage and walked away. Sis calmly handled the rest. Any day of the week, a chick like that would get a mouthful from me but around my period?! Fuggedaboutit! But yesterday I understood I was already on edge (not knowing why at first), my shopping day was just beginning at that point and I didn't want her to ruin the rest of my day. For the most part she didn't, I fantasized about yanking her larynx out through her ever-flapping gums only 2 or 3 times after our encounter. In the heat of the moment, she's lucky I didn't have any sharp objects immediately available to me, she knew it too. When I walked away from her for 'a breather', she had the audacity to tell Sis that she could tell I was really irritated with her. I'm so glad I didn't hear her say that, her loved ones should be too. Even today, I was positive this day was specifically designed to piss me off.  Among the day's irritants, were an annoying guy at work bopping along, humming so loud I wanted to slap him across the face.  The other, was an absent-minded old lady in line at the Post Office that didn't know whether she had the wrong city name, city spelling or zip code and she insisted on looking through a non-existent book of zip codes.  I wanted to hit her in the back of the head with my heavy purse, with all my might.  With equal passion, I wanted to kick both of them in the anus so hard that their sphincter muscle would pop out of their left and right eye sockets respectively ...but I didn't. Though it's hard as hell, I'm getting better at ridding the rage before police have to be called. In fact, I think I'm doing a pretty fucking fabulous job at it right now. You try looking forward to horrifyingly sudden weight gain, merciless bloating and a pain I'd liken to passing golf balls through your urethra for four straight days every month and see how pleasantly positive you can be.