Hormones Shmormones

I suppose this is what happens with hubris; I was feeling so pleased with myself last month when I was sad over Rob leaving, cried it out and awoke reborn - I was thinking I had this depression stuff licked or at least better understood.

Whatever.

Yeah, my period showed up and so did my tears, my black funk and blue fog. I spent yesterday escaping into work (volunteering at a school function) or into lalaland (I watched a few new episodes of my favorite TV shows).

This morning I finished reading the third book in the Uglies series. Once the book came to an end, the sadness descended.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this aspect of my personality? Z described it as being a wind swept moor as opposed to a sunny, tropical beach. But there are days when I am tired of the darkness, the emotions and the drama. I just want to be flatline, still and at peace with everything around me. Sometimes numbness seems like such a welcome relief from the onslaught of drama.

When I'm depressed, everything just seems to grow to gargantuan proportions and I shrink away into nothing; I become a meaningless non-entity and I wonder at being allowed to exist at all. The dishes and laundry and children and need to worship God all become so, so heavy until I can't do them at all and I lie in bed overwhelmed with enormity of it all.

Like I said, drama.

And I revert to a two-year old. "I want my mom! I want my Robert!" which all only serves to make me sadder. As if their presences would solve anything.

And then I think of all the people in the world who have real problems and not artificially induced sadness and I feel guilt.

More drama.

So today I'm back to wondering why it would be such a bad thing really for a 33yo to have a radical hysterectomy and live without any female hormones at all.

But in the back of my mind is my real fear, that all of this would keep going on even without my hormones.

I Think My Days as a Defective Typewriter Are Ending

I'm blue today. I was blue yesterday but I blamed on a lack of sleep (5 hours as opposed to 8/9).

Now I'm wondering if my hormones are swinging and I'm going to finally get that period that my body has been putting off for the last 3 weeks.

See? This is why I didn't rush out to buy a really expensive pregnancy test (although I've heard the ones from the Dollar Store are quite effective).

Blech. This just means that this next week is going to be harder than I planned with mood swings inevitable and a desperate need to keep taking my happy pills.

I'll try to post something more uplifting soon.

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**POST DISCLAIMER** I apologize for being bodily function obsessed. Perhaps I've been a mom too long or maybe it was my childhood dream of becoming a nurse or a physician. Either way, this is another post about my monthly. If you don't want to read it, don't. No offense on my end and hopefully none on yours. Also, not quite a disclaimer but a definite side note, I had to post a picture of women walking on the beach as it is so reminiscent of feminine product commercials which (gratefully) never show the product in use but rather show the most ridiculous shots of women playing tennis or...walking on the beach. Clearly designed by men. My commercial would show a woman curled up in the fetal position, crying on her bed surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers.

I must be getting ready to start my period. I'm craving chocolate like crazy -- I made dark chocolate fudgey brownies last night with chocolate chips mixed in and more chocolate chips melted on the top for a frosting. I want salt. Potato chips sound delectable. Nachos. Pickles. Chinese food. Heck, I should just go buy a salt lick and go to town! Apparently I've been quite...uh...er...female dog like. My good friend Liz asked if I was getting ready to start my cycle. I asked her, "Am I always cranky when I start my cycle?" She demurred for a moment and then said, "Yes." Robert, when I informed him of the conversation, got a big grin on his face. So while he wouldn't directly confirm Liz's comment, neither would he deny the content.

What is it about cycles that get women so crazy nuts? And, is it really necessary? I appreciate the hormone flux and, if my body is as resistant to change as I am, it must really be unhappy during this time, but I still don't understand why all of this is so necessary. Isn't having children hard enough without the monthly reminder via bloating, cramping, crying, yelling, craving, binging, irritability, zits, fatigue, limited brain function, insomnia, etc. that we are once again purging ourselves but will be ready to get pregnant in just another short week? Wouldn't the bleeding be notice enough? It's pretty hard to miss.

Clearly, I'm not the only woman obsessed by this. Have you ever noticed how many different terms we have for periods? We are like Eskimos with the word "snow." There is: cycle; period; Aunt Flo; George Michael; painters and decorators; monthly; monthly followed by: bill, blues, evacuations, flow, flux, monster, return, turns and visitor; OTR/on the rag; "menarche, menstruation or menstrual cycle" (spoken in a deep and somber voice); time of the month; menses; "I'm on;" broken; Strawberry Shortcake; crimson tide....need I go on?

What concerns me though, especially when all the symptoms of my cycle are particularly nasty, is the thought of what menopause will be like. My mother and I always assumed that since we were mother and daughter our female functions would be similar. My mother was stunned when I was in labor for about 20 hours with Rhys as compared to her first labor of just 2-4 hours. After some discussion, we determined that I seem to take after my father's mother. Well, not only has FarMar passed away, but I never had a relationship close enough with her to ask, "How well do your reproductive organs work?" More particularly, "How was menopause?" She was a nurse though, so I think, in my vast wisdom gained by being over 30, that she wouldn't have minded. Based on the stories that I've heard, however, it wasn't an easy time for her. Given this and all the problems I have with just a simple monthly flow, I'm worried that menopause may just be the end of me or, at least, of my marriage.

But I suppose that others have made it through all this before. And periods and menopause haven't killed anyone. (I think anyway. Would it be possible for someone, somewhere along the line, to have bled to death? Would committing suicide due to crazed hormone fluxuations be death by period/menopause? -- trying not to dwell.) Anyway, I guess it just "is what it is." Here's to happy womandom (a wee dram of sarcasm included there) and another month under my belt (almost).

I enjoy being a girl

There's a song running through my head: "I enjoy being a girl." There are times when that sentiment has been so accurate in my life. I loved being excused from roof snow shoveling duty to enjoy hot chocolate earlier than my brothers. I liked having girlie sleep overs where everyone got a make over and we'd discuss things that boys knew absolutely nothing about. There are times when it is luscious to be a woman. Then there is today.

I know, I know, it's terribly cliche to say that a certain time of the month rolls around and I'm in agony but there it is. I have a little boy that I watch every day. He is here today. Lulu is once again refusing to clean her room. I have to go to a playgroup thing this morning which, when I accepted the invitation, I was excited about but now it has grown to so many moms and children that I am afraid to go and would much rather spend time in my closet (which is only about 2'x4') with the door shut. Following that, I have a parent club meeting at my boys' elementary school where I have been appointed (not voted, elected or wanting to be but appointed) Secretary. So now I have to care enough and pay enough attention to keep decipherable minutes. When that's over, the boys will be out of school and it will be time for chores, homework, etc. Then it's off to Cub Scouts where I get to spend time with 8 energetic (read: run like wild dogs around and around screaming and yelling and refusing to sit still thinking that it is a game to see how quickly they can wear out their adult leaders) boys. I then return home with Rhys and drop him off (my neighbor will be watching all three kids) and dash off to a "Knitting for Peace" meeting, which seemed and still seems like fun, but not today. All this, and today I am gifted with the ultimate proof that I am a woman fully growed.

Today, the only thing that sounds truly delectable is dark chocolate, a good, unquestionably-brain-candy-with-little-redeeming-value novel and clean, warm flannel sheets in my bed. Bliss. Calgon take me away. A hot tub could be good too. But playgroups, and knitting, and scouts, and dragging two four year olds to Walmart, and Parent Club (which has grown so large that I am beginning to understand why Congress never gets anything done) do not!

Today, I wish I were a man. I could write my name in the snow, be a grouch when my hormones were crazy but never hear the words, "Oh he's just PMSing," which is really code for "He's just being a witch but we're supposed to excuse it today because of his hormones." Nope, men can be grouchy and cranky and they are merely assertive. If I were a man, I wouldn't be in Parent Club. My husband asked me, "Why are you going to this meeting?" Clearly demonstrating that he had no interest in such groups and couldn't see any value in spending his time there. If I were a man, I wouldn't have been invited to this all woman play group. Most notably, if I were man, there would be no gift from the gods arriving every month like clockwork. There would be no cramps, no irritability, no immense fatigue, no wanting to cry at every little thing, no feeling like your head is going to explode, no wanting to rip out your innards. . . .

So today, instead of venting at my kids, I am venting into the great unknown, sounding my barbaric yawp at the reality of "Eve's curse." There's nothing I can do but that and take hope in knowing that tomorrow, things will be better and in a week, life will have moved on and I will, most likely, really enjoy being a girl.