I’m irregular. Not just in general, but in a feminine hygiene kinda way. (If you’re still male and reading this: I warned ya). For most women, this unwelcome visitor, Aunt Flo is often the worst part every month. Well, in my case, Flo doesn’t give you any hint to her coming but will arrive late and decides to bring other guests like her friend, Mrs. Cramps and Miss Bloat. Just when you least expect, she floods right on in and didn’t even bother to knock or ask for permission. The nerve of some people! Now my body is indeed a temple and I like to keep it neat, so realize that Flo’s surprise visits are made more horrid because she always has a sixth sense to arrive when my house is the cleanest. Hence, my fear to wear any light colored clothing until after I know Flo’s been by. OK?
Here I was having an already lousy week because there’s this annoying project I’m working on. But on the bright side, I said to myself, ‘It’s a short week due to the Good Friday.’ That’s when I felt this irritating ovary pain that unless you have experienced firsthand, is really hard to explain. I will attempt to using this example of my mind’s thoughts during the excruciating period (pardon the pun):
Please, dear God, no.
Ow-ee, Ow-ee, Ow-ee ouch! Here comes the pain…
Oh, dear God. Please kill me, kill me, kill me. I want to lay down.
Must. Survive. Stabbing Pain.
I want to kill something.
I want to stab something.
Someone must suffer. Dear Lord, someone will suffer. I will make sure of it.
Once the initial hatred is gone, then comes the shooting pain up and down your leg. After that, you feet swell up and you feel sore. Not just in your feet, but ALL OVER. Then, crampscrampscrampscrampitty cramps. Some more pressure and…voila! Bleeding! Yippee!!! (only, NOT)
The pain makes you feel uncomfortable and annoyed at just about everything. But here’s just a quick list of some things that bother me when I’m suffering from my period:
- Noise (including whistling, desk-tapping, or gossiping)
- Colors (especially if they’re bright)
- People (including but not limited to: men)
Well, that’s almost all of the things that annoy me when I seem to be dying a slow, painful death. The terrible truth–and forgive me for being so damned blunt but I did warn you–is that your sole wish is to be left alone to bleed. All you think about is laying in a river somewhere to bleed. Why a river? Well, it’s the only thing I can think of that can wash away that nasty not-so-fresh feeling. Just carry it downstream somewhere. Shock the hell out of some fish. Ewww….grossed out yet? Told you to stop reading. Jerks.