Monica knew what I’m going through. We just want/need different responses.
Today is just one of those days (or in the words of Monica “one of dem days”). I feel emotionally and physically drained, stressed about work and my home situation, missing the support system I used to rely so heavily upon but ignore and all I want to do is go to sleep. It doesn’t help that Eve is here for her monthly visit. In addition to what I would call normal daily stressors, Eve shortens my attention span, level of patience and ability to react appropriately to small annoyances. In short, I’m PMSing and it’s not all that fun.
According to WomensHealth.gov, PMS can include a number of physical and emotional issues. In my case, acne, feeling tired, upset stomach, backache, muscle pain, trouble concentrating or remembering, tension, irritability, mood swings and anxiety or depression. A.K.A. I’m a mess. These symptoms start a few days before and generally last throughout. PMDD is essentially more severe PMS. If Iwere to go with the description on the site, I may actually be suffering from that. But whatever it is, I don’t care for it.
PMS is nothing new. Most women experience it and most men learn to deal with it. Everyone’s collection and severity of syptoms are unique but there’s a common trend: We’re not completely ourselves. Or should I say we’re heightened versions of ourselves. For whatever reason, I take that personally. I am angry every month that I’m angry every month. Rather than be naive enough to ask why or really blame Eve, I am naive enough to believe I can control it. They are afterall my body, my brain, my emotions. I’ll excuse myself the physical limitations. The human body can only take so much. Debilitating cramps at points worthy of muscle relaxers and codeine are understandable. Pop a couple Aleve, fire up the heating pad and succumb to the fetal position. But overly emotional and not completely in control? Not my cup of tea.
I feel I should be able to maintain my general even keel when things are going on inside my body. I definitely have bitchy tendencies. But for the most part, I can control it. Chemical changes are just changes. This is my body dammit. I want to be in control. But I’m obviously not. Eve comes and I lose my ability to function gracefully. Things that aren’t a big deal send me off the deep end, comments that wouldn’t phase me seem like personal insults and I lose the general constraints on my mouth. Or should I say the response processing delay is completely removed. There is no filter…with my friends and family. (For the most part, I can keep it together around those responsible for my paycheck.)
The most distressing symptom, however, is the unhappiness. I don’t feel depressed but I also don’t care to really do much or be around that many people (according to the commercials those are the symptoms…). I bounce back to normal as soon it’s over but I can’t imagine I’m easy to deal with during. I either don’t want to be around you or run the risk of jumping down your throat. At this time, my ideal day would include spending most of it in bed with good movies, good books, good ice cream, some carb loaded food like pasta or potatoes, snuggling with my puppy and maybe a patient, understanding man. If he’s around, I need him to stay quiet and hold me. Sometimes I just need a hug.
As much as I like to be in control and not rely on another person, if I’m comfortable enough to be around you when I’m not completely comfortable with myself, I need you to tread lightly. My guards go up quickly and may impale you. I probably don’t mean what I say but I’ll probably say it with a vengeance and not be all that willing to back down soon after. I understand why people wouldn’t want to be around me these 3-7 days. It’s easy to pity the physical discomfort. The emotional rollercoaster, not so much.
If/when you hear me mention Eve, run away or just give me hug. It won’t fix anything but it sure makes me feel better. Plus, it’s harder for me to be mean to you if you’re just being sweet. Sometimes words aren’t enough. Even bitches need reassurance.
Crawling toward a pillow,
Jo’van
The Truth: According to Jo'van 