All my life (since I've been 12 or 13 to tell you the truth) I've bragged about having calm periods. No monthly monster creeping into my life taking over the nice sweet innocent person I am. No cramps. No bloating. Light stuff coming out. No need for that disgusting huge pad to change every half hour. I've been blessed.
Blessed be thy life is over.
Where do I sign up to get rid of this crap? I will not have kids. My three failed attempts were enough pain to not ever go through that again. EVER. So, how can I now put an end to it?
This past week was hell. Last week a truck "bumped" me. Just enough to bruise me on the back. But I went all psycho bitch from hell on the old Mr. Magoo. I mean totally psychotic. Man, where did that monster come from all of a sudden. This sweet innocent bystander immediately asked me "You okay sweetie?" I looked at him, screamed at the driver in a high pitched tone to make dogs freak out, looked at my nice man said (trying to make him laugh off the fact that I'd just lost it) "Oh I'm okay, just needed to make that guy feel guilty for being so stupid!" Then proceeded to scream at the driver.
Where did that come from? My dude looked at me after when I was telling him my story. He explained to me how once a month my personality disappears and I am taken over by a force within.
R.I.P. sweet nice smiling happy me. I no longer exist. I now explode like a snap then can switch immediately back and forth between two absolutely different personalities. Great. Another thing to look forward to getting old and me-me-me-mennnnn-mennnop-p-p-aus-s-s-si-b-b-b-it-ch-ch-ch-y.
It stinks being a woman in her 40's. I think I go through that emotional rollercoaster daily vs. monthly. So maybe you're in relatively good shape...?!
ReplyDeleteSorry. Do have some chocolate.
Cheers,
Robyn
Dont believe that having kids makes the cramps stop.......... mine got WORSE! Eventually I got a script for a pain killer. They helped, but the drooling all over myself and the incoherent babbling they produced was a real turn off to others.
ReplyDeleteI settled for Ibuprofen, heating pads and dirty martinis. LOTS of dirty martinis.
You mean I will get even worse??? Oh god, watch out! At least you had most of your life without cramps, that's better than most women...lucky girl!
ReplyDeleteStory is great, well told!
Muchas Gracias el nakida writeria! ;o)
ReplyDeleteYes, sorry to break it to you, life does not really get better even if commercials try to make you believe in the poetry of wrinkles and gray hairs: getting old SUCKS THE BIG WHITE FAT ASS. It hurts. You change in ways you CANNOT control.
But on the bright side, I was asked for my ID not once but TWICE in the last week upon ordering drinks at a bar... That helps soothe the pain... Or was it the up-coming joy of wetting my tongue on a sweet cocktail? Hmm, the world may never know...