Monday, 19 August 2013

Let's talk about periods, AKA a post guaranteeing I will only ever have female blog readers.


 



So, menstruation, huh guys? The miracle of fertility. Oh joy.

What I wish most for women who are stuck living in these amazing womanly bodies of ours is a simple off switch. Oh, you want to have a baby? Turn on the periods and the other uteral functions that go with it. Don't want to have kids ever? Just shut it right off. Wouldn't that be amazing? No more birth control, no more cramps and bleeding, no more guesswork or unwanted pregnancy. But maybe keep the estrogen and progesterone and stuff flowing, you know, for boobs and whatnot.

via tumblr, so who knows who made it really

I'll be honest here, I'm coming up on being thirty one years old and I still never know exactly when my period is about to arrive.* I just somehow forget about it every single month. About a week before, I will cry at everything, happy or sad or beautiful. But I have no clue what's going on. Then, one day I find myself complaining that my lower back is SOOO ACHY. But I still don't know it's coming. Then I'm very tired and irritable a few hours later. Still don't know. Then I am very hungry or want either potato chips or candy and like whoa that chocolate bar looks good. Still don't know. I get even worse acne than I normally have. Still don't know.



Then, seemingly out of nowhere... oh fuck I am bleeding all over my nicest pair of underwear. Like. Damn periods are weird. I am always disgusted and always amazed by what is going on down there every month. It's so gory and visceral and ... we keep it so hidden. Clean it up, put some perfume on, go on with your day. Who cares that buckets of blood and uteral lining are painfully coming out of you, and your womb feels like somebody is actually wringing it out like they're doing laundry? Wear white pants and dance on the beach and don't you dare act like you're in pain or someone will call you bitchy. Stuff some compressed dry cotton up there. Isn't that better?




On top of the whole bleeding thing...you get cramps. Um. Yeah. It's not some mild little ignorable twinge. It. Is. Terrible. I cannot make it through the first few days of my period without drugs and taking every opportunity to curl up into a little ball on the couch in sweat pants. I like to take this one specific off-brand drugstore extra strength pms/cramp killer. It's cheap and effective and it gets me a little high in a muscle relaxant-y way. Every month I wish I could make the men in my life know what I am feeling, just for a few hours. The inescapable gut-twisting aching emotional rollercoaster. I don't know why, I guess it's just not fair that they don't know. And I only live with men so I'm surrounded by people who just don't get it.



I've taken to storing tampons and pads everywhere I go, I have some at work, in my purse, in every bathroom at home. I like the idea of a diva lunar moon child flower power save the environment cup, but in practice not so much. I find there's a lot of uh, digging around in there to get it out, it's really uncomfortable to get in, and I can feel it all the time while I am wearing it. Plus it can get messy and not something you want to deal with out in public washrooms, like, at all. I want to have full access to plenty of soap and water and hand towels and maybe even a shower. There is so much clean up and I'm never sure about the whole storage between periods thing. Just ... put it back in that little cotton bag? Really? I don't know. I don't really like any of the options available. Can't we just go live in a hut and do crafts for a week like the women of so many other cultures do? Ahh that'd be amazing.

So, in conclusion to this weird little super personal rant about periods...at least I know this for another month:






Hooray!



*looks like I'm not the only unprepared one out there

No comments:

Post a Comment