Caution: the following content may not be enjoyable for those of the male persuasion
Though I have never been properly diagnosed nor do I love giving in to one of the many disorders our health care profession has provided us with choosing from but I think I suffer from PMDD. If you’ve seen one of those cheesy YAZ commercials lately which depict women sitting around a nightclub or their coffee table discussing birth control, you know that PMDD is Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I know, I think the same thing when I see them, nothing says clubbing like birth control. And you know women, we discuss that shit everywhere. Or so advertisers seem to think. Anyway, I digress. The reason I am self diagnosing is because every month during the week sometimes two weeks before my little monthly “friend” I gain two very severe new personalities. They are nothing like some of the fun child personalities Sally Field enjoyed in Cybil. No, my two personalities are Raging Bitch and/or Depressed Wino. During the other week or two of the month I get to be the cool chick that is in my nature (and yes I am a cool chick, I have been told so by many dudes). This craziness would be fine if I lived alone in the Ozarks, but with a husband and two sons it can be a huge inconvenience. I have been trying to explain this issue to my husband before he and my sons decide to start living elsewhere monthly. The poor guy didn’t have much exposure to this issue early on as we did not live together during courtship and I got pregnant pretty much a month after we moved in together. I was pregnant again about 3 months after my first son so my husband’s exposure to my menstrual cycle has really come on in the last 2 years. He is not impressed. I appreciate that said “friend” was always a sign of my fertility and a great indicator of the fact that my little men were going to make their way into the world but, now that I am done with all of that I wish it would just go away. I get in moods which I can’t control and which can be very off putting to those around me, as I mentioned. All of that shitty behavior goes without even accounting for the accoutrements that must be purchased and used during this unstable time. I don’t use tampons so I am faced with an extra diaper (so to speak) to change for 4 to 5 days of each month. If this monthly thing were an “aunt” or a “friend” I would disown her and change my address and phone number so that she could never find me again. I think I will ask for an elective hysterectomy. Maybe without the engine the car won’t start. Then I can keep my sanity and my husband all month.