I have officially entered the PMS zone. I've been irritable, mood swingy (is that a word?), and down right physically miserable with the swollen body, tender breasts, full-blown cramps, headaches, and massive fatigue. With that said, I am normally a very easy-going person. I usually take a tremendous amount of caca before I blow my top. But of course, once I do, RUN! HIDE! SEEK SHELTER UNDERGROUND!Lately however, my tolerance level is at an all-time low. Every little thing sends me over the edge in about 15 seconds flat. That doesn't help with me and Baby considering he tends to not pay attention to my initial requests. Therefore, having to repeat myself leads to visions of pushing him down a flight of stairs. Often times I feel guilty for not being as laid back as usual, but then I have Doc right there by my side as my personal PMS cheering section in my near-homicidal tendencies. Short of helping me push Baby down those aforementioned stairs, Doc has been the perfect "Yes Man" in supporting me in my anger management issues lately. "Yes, you should put him in his place!" "No, you did the right thing by saying how you feel!" Even if I'm not right and completely irrational, Doc supports me in my manic behavior. There is something about the unconditional love of a best friend that makes your bad days all better.
Just an example of the ridiculousness between Doc and myself that reminds me how much I love him is the following excerpt from our catty email exchange yesterday when I was kind of feeling low (and, yes, I am a pretty superficial bitch in this email...and yes, I'm okay with that):
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Rice: Even these people found love... (attached photo of unattractive couple on their wedding day)Doc: Who are these people? The boy is kinda cute -- in an ugly way.
Rice: I know the girl. I have no clue who the goober is, but they look so happy in love. I think I'm jealous...
Doc: "Happy in love," huh. See that's the problem. People like you, me, and Beyonce are always trying to be crazy in love. The ugly losers are only trying to be happy in love. Maybe there's something to learn from this picture. Shit, you know (head bobbing), none of us three could handle just being happy in love. It's just not fun and doesn't have a good beat (i.e., doesn't have that good ol' porn rhythm).
*****
Now who can deny such sage advice coming from a licensed psychiatrist?
4 comments:
I totally agree with Doc. I think I have a feeling I know who you are talking about in the picture. I looked at one of our classmate's wedding pictures and was like, "Wow, they found each other...what's wrong with me?" Once I thought it I felt really bad afterwards. (Not really)
I'm so mean, but I can't help it.
You're both mean, you big MEANIES! :P
I agree with Doc as well ... crazy in love is MUCH better than happy in love. And with my mental instability, CRAZY is about all I can manage. And yeah ... the beat is MUCH better.
P.S. My PMS reached an all-time high a month ago. So bad it got that I could barely function in society. Then I started the pill ... and it ate the PMS alive. My last period was, well, not a joy exactly, as bleeding never is, but symptoms? Not a one to be had. Sweet fucking RELIEF.
My friend Pharmacist (who really is a pharmacist) suggests I look into switching my birth control. I've been on the patch, but she suggests getting on particular pills as they have different effects on the body. Basically, she got all technical and my eyes started to glaze over, but I'm sure whatever she was saying made sense. I hate taking pills though!
I think the eye glazing is another manifestation of your patch. You did hide it well though. Most people typically give me the "duh" look whenever I step it up beyond the first grade level. "What do you mean I can't take viagra five times a day??"
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