Can we just, as people who experience periods, get a pass sometimes to act irrationally because periods suck and feel bad and they make you feel alone and ostracized because for whatever goddamn reason it’s still taboo to talk about.
I had car trouble on the second day of my period. Then I got some really bad news, and you can imagine how that went.
If you don’t know, the first 24 hours after the onset of your period are the worst for cramps and hormone levels. It truly is like the gates of the underworld have opened in your uterus and the hounds of hell are running around ragdolling the shit out of your insides. Maybe a less graphic description is the scene in Spongebob where the little worker Spongebobs in his brain are short circuiting and there is a fire and sheer panic because they threw out his name and can’t remember. Instead of WE THREW OUT HIS NAME! it’s WE MUST SHED THE EGG!
In summary, there is a lot of blood and there are a lot of emotions.
I felt very alone, which I am usually fine with. I like being alone, and I like doing things by myself. But not on that night. I hate feeling powerless. I hate hate hate asking for help.
I’m waiting for my tire to be fixed, trying to stand still and listen while it feels like a melon baller is scooping out my insides. The guy is asking me questions about how long I drove on the flat tire, and what caused it, and I’m trying to swallow my nausea before I answer.
I’m also wondering what time exactly did I put my tampon in because if it was noon then I won’t die from toxic shock syndrome, probably. Hopefully. And I’m angry. So angry because why don’t we have anything better yet? Why does the only thing that actually works and isn’t uncomfortable, the tampon, have to have such a huge risk of death. Why isn’t there an option that doesn’t make you feel like you’re wearing a blood-soaked diaper, or risk actual death, or worse, smell like blood?? I was angry and I was having the worst cramps I’ve had in a while.
I felt flight-or-flight-y, and my eyes were filled with tears but I didn’t want to let them go because I knew people would think it’s because I couldn’t handle a flat tire but I just couldn’t handle it on top of my bad news on top of the worst day of my period. I didn’t want to be the girl that cries because she’s on her period. And my back hurts and my boobs are sore and I got a zit from hormonal fucking acne.
I would like to have whatever causes that – prostaglandins? estrogen? progesterone? – removed.
I was like how on earth could I be expected to deal with this news and get my car fixed while I’m publicly bleeding out? Can I get a stunt double, because this sucks.
And people will go ewwww and gross like half of the population doesn’t experience this once a month and put on a fake smile and do everything that the other half of the population does while the lining of one of their organs is literally shedding itself and pouring out of their bodies.
Fuck those commercials where the ladies are playing tennis and smiling and jumping around like having a rolled up plastic time bomb up their bajingos is so fun, so convenient. I want to take my boobs off, put them on a hanger, and go get a facial and a massage because my back is killing me and this zit is basically a second head. I want to destroy the Pyramids of Giza in sweatpants with a hot water bottle duct taped to my stomach and eat an entire cheesecake after with my bare hands.
Prattle Peach 