I don't get it. While I admit that I generally feel a little weepy and slightly "off" the week before Aunt Flo rears her ugly head, it pales in comparison to how I feel the week after. The "P" in "PMS" does not mean pre- to me...it means post-. Seriously. On top of the headaches I get to have EVERY day for a week after she's gone, the roller-coaster of emotions and the sad, sinking feeling is a little much these days.
This morning I have already bawled three times, and my grumpiness apparently rubbed off on Jackson who was such a bear by nap time that we didn't even rock-a-bye, I just laid him down, tucked him in and he went to sleep. I wish I could do the same.
Fuck. I HATE days like this. Relatively normal, but generally passing, emotions seem to "stick in the chute" and create a sick, sad bottleneck of garbage in my heart. I just want to sleep, but that's just not possible right now, so I sit. And feel like shit. And think about smoking. And eat more candy that makes my ass bigger.
I am disheartened by the election (spare me if you disagree), I am afraid for our children's future and for country (and would have been no matter who would have won); I am sad that our nice weather is on its way out (snow by the weekend, they say) and we can't afford the new tires we need, so soon I'll be driving with my kids, on ice, with shitty tires; I am sick about the blog I read this morning talking about kids not being about to make friends and being lonely and sad in school; I am anxious and angry at how long Aimee's autopsy results are taking; I am broken-hearted that she is still dead; I am pissed that my elbow is not healing and I still can't fucking straighten it despite having followed doctor's orders; and I am missing my husband, who it seems I never get to just be with anymore.
I am irritated about choices people are making in their lives, I am sickened by how some mothers treat their children, I am worried that if I don't get back on the beach soon I'll be one of those "cut-the-wall-out-of-my-living room-so-I-can-go-to-the-doctor" people. Not that I have ANY motivation to get back on the beach today. Hardee har.
Fucking hormones bullshit. Ugh. This is all me just having verbal diarrhea via blog, dear reader...no worries. All is well overall and I truly have nothing real to bitch about. We have a (humble) home of our own, food in our (big) bellies, friends and family who love us, and (for now) a free country to live in - we are lucky, and next week when my hormones level out, I'll be able to operate under that knowledge again. For three more weeks, anyway.
How soon does menopause start? I think the absence of hormones will be a welcomed change for me. Vaginal dryness, hot flashes, whatever - bring it on. Just get me off this roller-coaster!