PMS: Pardon My Sobbing, Pass My Sweats, Pissy Mood Syndrome, People Make Me Sick, Plainly; Men Suck…
Maybe this is too personal, so be warned, this blog is about my period. It is just that I have never had a problem with it before, have even enjoyed it really (I know, truly weird) but since having Babou, I have the most terrifying periods I have ever experienced. I now get all the normal symptoms but they seem unduly amplified; the tearing up for no good reason, the unreasonable hunger, the irritation level sky-high. What do you do when you actually want to take off your body like you would a pair of clothes? My brain also could use taking off. I feel the shaving my head, even my hair is irritating me. Imagine wearing a wool sweater 10 sizes too small in the heat of summer. That is how I feel.
And mentally being able to function is ridiculous. I could not make a decision to save my life. Addled brained does not even begin to describe me. I went into the grocery store and had to leave because I couldn’t remember why I’d come. Has this happened to anyone—these symptoms getting worse after baby? Maybe I am a freak of nature, actually I am pretty sure of this, but this is new territory for me and I don’t like it at all. My husband is nervous, too.
And normally I don’t care that much for sweets but boy I do now. I could eat an entire Boston Cream pie (just as I did once, I am not ashamed to admit, while pregnant). I am trying not to veer too far off my diet path but it is HARD.
I remember reading in some hippy self-help type book I am very prone to reading that our menstrual cycles actually are very evolved emotional balancing systems. It described our cycle in terms of wanting to be involved in, or distant from, our world. Our ovulation, obviously, marks our most social moment (hey, those eggs want to get hatched y’know), and then our periods are the moment that we seek our solitude, head to a moss hut, and be alone. I wish I had a hut to spend a week in. Doesn’t that actually sound so civilized? Our periods are our time to tend our garden, so to speak. It brings to light all the irritations of the month, allowing you to process and release and start anew. The book went further to postulate that because of this we are more emotionally evolved than men who have to fester all the way until their midlives to really get it all out of their system. The idea is that we are actually lucky for our monthly cycles as they allow us to be fully present emotionally.
I always thought that was such a beautiful metaphor and would love to uphold it, but in modern life it seems difficult. Today I am going to try to concentrate on finding a way to weave this metaphor into my more modern life and uphold that vision instead of shaving my head and running naked into the hills. Wish me luck!
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