I LOVE MY PERIOD!
Honest to Bob. I love it.
Do you know why I love it?
I love it because I can be all crazy and irrational, cry and whine, feel depressed and throw tantrums because "OMG. YOU KIDS SET THE DVR TIMER TO RECORD STREET BALL AND IT OVERODE THE RECORDING OF SURVIVOR AND SWEET, HOLY JESUS YOU ARE SO FOREVER BANNED FROM USING THE DVR!" and then? When I unexpectedly "start", I can go "Oops, sorry about that, I just started. THAT'S why I'm acting this way." and no one is allowed to get mad at me, because, It's not my fault! It's "my period!"
And you see, my oldest son is learning all about periods (Or, as he put it "about girl stuff, like, you know, tampons and pads and stuff.") and he knows that a girl can become emotionally unstable at that time of the month where she must wear The Tampons. (And Tony hasn't been allowed to get mad at me about PMS since the One Time that I literally threw a huge ass medical encyclopedia at him whilst screaming "LOOK UP PMS IN HERE AND THEN I DARE YOU TO TELL ME IT IS NOT A REAL MEDICAL CONDITION, A-S-S-.")
I felt like shit all last week. I cried a lot and even told my sister that I wanted to lock myself in the house and not go anywhere or see anyone. I thought "Maybe it's PMS." But then ruled it out because "Didn't I just have a period like 2 weeks ago?"
Then, on Saturday night, I wrote the following post...
I feel myself slipping back into old, destructive habits.Blah.Blah.Blah.BrokenRecord.Blah.
When I cry to my husband about it, his way of "helping" is to "demand" that I go to the park for a walk and work through these bad feelings, rather than give into them.
"I don't feel like going to the park to walk."
"Well, I don't feel like going to work sometimes, but I have to go. Sometimes we have to do things we don't feel like doing. Now, GO! Walk!"
I can't be mad at him for not knowing how to be supportive without being a jerk about it, he truly doesn't know any better. Yet, I want to kick him between the legs repeatedly for being a jerk about it.
I want to tell him "A haircut will make me feel better. I haven't had my hair cut since December." Because pretty hair will make me feel better about my ugly stomach. But he'll only tell me we can't afford a haircut, so I don't mention the haircut and cry instead.
Wah.Wah.Wah.
I am tempted to hide from the world again, to isolate myself again because I'm ashamed to let people see the evidence of my failure.
Blah.Blah.Blah.
Food is a drug. I'm an addict. I control my habit most days, but I've let the drug have control again because it's the only thing the fills the aching inside.
And yet, it's also the thing that causes the aching inside.
I hate it. I love it.
I need it to live. I can't live with it.
Blah.Blah.Blah.
I'm crying out for help, but the only person who can help me is unable to help.
Because that person is me.
I want to slap the shit out of myself because ENOUGH ALREADY.
I want to hug the hell out of myself because I need to know it's ok to mess up and that I'm just fine the way that I am.
I need to listen to the people who tell me to get over it because I know what I need to be doing. And yet, I want to tell them to shut the hell up because they don't know me and they don't live inside of my head and my husband loves to eat chocolate cake and I can't ask him not to have cake in the house because I CAN'T CONTROL MY DAMN SELF.
Blah.
Blah.
Blah.
I need to forgive myself for backsliding and for those damn SIX pounds that are killing me inside.
But I can't forget because I don't ever want to make the same mistake again.
Blah.Blah.The.End.
Thirty minutes after posting that, I "started" and quickly drafted the post because, man, THAT was embarrassing. I only repost to show you an example of how completely fucked up my emotions get pre- "my period." It's getting worse every month and I really do need to make that appointment with the OB/GYN that I've been meaning to make for the past year or so.
I bet you're all happy and totally not grossed out in the least bit that I just shared all of that Period Goodness with you on this here Monday morning, aren't ya?
I tried to make the best of the day yesterday and as bad as I felt, my kids made it very easy on me because they are so damn precious.
When I asked Ethan if he was going to make me breakfast, he replied with "I don't know how to cook, but I can make you a buffet...of love.
(Ok, so five minutes later he was all "I HATE the clothes you pick out for me, they're dumb and you always make me wear dumb stuff!" but, I didn't even get mad because, seriously people. BUFFET...OF LOVE.)
Andrew, Mr.Reserved With His Emotions, gave me a very sweet card. When he handed it to me, he reached out, hugged me tight and said "I love you, Mom." Anytime that kid gives me a spontaneous hug, it's like Christmas Morning for me. He's not good at expressing his emotions (unlike Mr.Buffet...of Love). He's very reserved with his "feelings", just like his dad, so when he reaches out to express his love, I cry happy tears on the inside.
That is the ONLY picture of me and all three of my kids from yesterday. That makes me sad, and yet, a little happy because, like "Whoa" with the pale face.
My children hate to take pictures and that may or may not have something to do with the fact that I ALWAYS have a camera up in their faces. Even my family is like "OMG! Put that thing away, you freak. ENOUGH ALREADY."
I have to tell you, I do think Mothers Day is the greatest day of the year. I didn't have to do a thing yesterday! Not.A.Single.Thing. All I would have to do was throw out a "You're seriously going to make me do that on Mothers Day" and Ha! Ha! Someone else would do it for me.
I didn't change a single diaper! I didn't get myself a single glass of water! I didn't fold a single article of clothing! All I did was lay on the couch and say things like "I sure would love an egg burrito" and BAM! An egg burrito would appear in my lap.
Awesome doesn't even begin to describe it, people.
Now, if only I could figure out a way to make everyday "mothers day."
(Don't be surprised if this post "disappears". I just re-read it and I kind of hate it. Because, you know, I should have written something sweet and touching ("Cheesy") about how much I love my kids and how they complete me and how awesome our time together was, but I didn't, because, you know, cramps and stuff, but AH. I LOVE MY PERIOD.)
"Buffet...OF LOVE" - I am totally cribbing that. Perfection. If you ever make an album, at least you have a good name for it now.
And your Andrew- total lump in my throat reading that part. Aw.
re: the periods? once a month I think about my Grandma L who is in a nursing home and it always depressses me to tears and I feel all selfish for not visitng her more. And I day daydream that she's died and I didn't get to say goodbye. All gut-wrinching stuff. And then I check the calendar, and lo, hey, don't you know, guess what's coming up? So, everybody got their something with the PMS huh? You, body stuff; me killing off grandmaw.