if you don’t have a period… I hate you.
My anatomy pretty much hates me, in general, but the biggest offender is always my uterus. My intestines hate all food. My skin hates sunlight. My eyes hate to focus. My gallbladder waged full on war with me. My lungs don’t really like oxygen. My kidneys have attempted an attack. My uterus, however, comes at me like we are in a world war for total domination or decimation, every god damn month.
Now, I understand. I, too, would be mad if I spent all month getting a room ready for a guest and it turns out they didn’t show up. I would totally be pissed. I’m not sure that I would wreck the joint, though. My uterus wrecks the joint. It invites 1980s Motely Crüe over, and they throw TVs out the window, and tear open the furniture, and do lines of cocaine off of everything.
In real terms, this translates to extreme pain and general shiftiness. Every month I’m treated to flu symptoms: nausea, fatigue, congestion, fever, and lethargy. Just in case that isn’t enough, there is a near constant stabbing feeling in my abdomen. I don’t mean a dull ache, a sudden brief pain, or even that it feels like I’ve been socked in the gut. I mean that I feel as though there is something inside me trying to cut its way out for five to seven days straight. Also, I become ravenous.
I’ve been diagnosed with poly cystic ovaries. I have an enlarged ovary. Neither of these cause my pain. The pain is supposedly just cramps. It’s been speculated that it could be endometriosis, but it’s hasn’t been properly diagnosed. About the only thing that cuts through the pain? Percocet. I can’t take that when I’m going to work, of course. I can’t take it if I plan to drive, interact with people, or do anything except sleep very heavily. So, I live with the pain. Today, on the way to work, it was so bad that I had to pull over on the side of the freeway and just breathe until I was sure I wasn’t going to vomit.
The other thing that treats all this awful, though, is grease. Now, I have not researched this, but I think there’s a direct correlation between treating menstrual stress and grease. When I’m menstrual, all I want it is the grossest, most A,ericam processed, greasy ass crap that I can shovel down my gullet. Today I had nachos, covered in some kind of liquid orange cheese, with jalapeños and sour cream. Later, I had a fried fish sammich. Both were nauseatingly delicious. And both elicited a momentary lapse in my dismay and discomfort. While I also suffer from IBS, I am prone to period stomach, which results in anything I eat becoming a very bad idea. Weird thing is, the higher the grease content, the less period stomach effects me. Salad? Bad idea. Biggest burger ever, deep fried and topped with whipped cream? Perfect. It’s so crazy.
Anyways. So I binged today. I needed it. I will eat much better for three days, and completely avoid the scale, but I needed today. Life happens, and the best laid plans of dieters have weak points. The important thing is to realize it happens and deal with it instead of beating yourself up about it. Give yourself a break.
In related news, I was down a total of six pounds this morning from my start weight. Six pounds in two weeks is really great. Yay me.