Menstruation –
There’s a popular joke among men that goes something like, “I don’t trust anything that bleeds for seven days and doesn’t die.” Oh, and another gem: “Who lit the fuse on YOUR tampon?” Haha, guys, you’re just sooo clever, aren’t you? Picture this: you’re a young teen, going about your usual sports or activities, when you go into the bathroom to take a piss. You drop trou, as you’ve done a million times before throughout your brief life, when something strange and horrific catches your eye: a pool of shocking red blood in the crotch of your undies. If you’re like me, you shrieked, “Mommy! I think I got my fucking period!” and then your devilish little brothers danced and laughed hysterically right outside your bathroom door.
Surprise! Welcome to womanhood.
As your body adjusts to this regularly scheduled program, PMS (Pre-Menstrual Suckiness) begins to make itself known within the week leading up to your flow. To all the guys out there who can’t begin to comprehend why “bitches be crazy”: if you’ve ever smoked waaaay too much pot, you MIGHT be able to understand what it’s like to PMS. Your brain narrows in on your usually-buried insecurities and focuses on them with concentrated, obsessed intensity through a microscope glazed in paranoia. During this time, it is often impossible to maintain the perspective that these horrible feelings are merely by-products of your raging hormones and will, indeed, pass with time. Irrational behavior will often leave your friends, family, and/or lover stunned and hurt by harsh, eruptive words that seemingly came out of nowhere. Tears can be conjured by something as innocuous as a credit card commercial (“priceless”).
Then, just as the swelling in your brain begins to deflate, the swelling in your abdomen expands like a balloon. For those of you whose only complaint during this time of the month is “I get really sleepy”, fuck you. For the rest of us, when the red tide rolls in, the first twenty-four hours are often the equivalent to having your lower stomach stabbed repeatedly with a butcher’s knife…no, wait…ravaged mercilessly by giant bear claws from the inside. I’ve tried everything, from Aleve to Vicodin to red wine to heating pads to baths to sex (actually, orgasms DO provide momentary relief, but only momentary) to exercise to rest to deep-breathing, but nothing helps. At first, I thought it was nature’s way of punishing me for not getting pregnant, which is my only biological purpose for being here. THEN my mother informed me that really bad period cramps feel almost exactly like child labor, minus the progression of pushing a small human out of your snatch. So, let me get this straight: once a month, every month, I and millions of other women go through excruciating labor pains, to, what – prepare our bodies for the real thing? FUCKED UP.
As if all of that wasn’t bad enough, caffeine usage will only succeed in severely exacerbating your cramps, so even though you’re more exhausted than usual and craving coffee and getting a withdrawal headache from skipping your morning cup, it is best to wait until you’ve reached dry land to resume your java intake.
Let’s not forget about the absorbent alternatives for taking care of the little bleeding sitch, or as I fondly refer to it: the “uteral tissue shedding issue”. You can either put half a diaper in your underwear, also known as a “pad”. Or, if you’re like me and don’t OWN any underwear, you can stick a finger-sized piece of cotton up your punani and endure the tickle of the string as it wedges its way up into your ass crack throughout the day. And if it’s a “heavy” day? Well, there’s no way to tell until you’ve leaked all over your favorite jeans and still have five more hours left at work before you can go home and change your clothes. Are we having fun yet?
Advice to Women -
When “the crazy train” begins to take you for a ride within that week leading up to your period, silently repeat this brilliant self-help mantra: Keep your fucking mouth SHUT. I am all about taking a load off when something’s bothering me, but during PMS, I have come to understand that almost everything I so DESPERATELY need to get off my chest is a pile of nonsensical HORSE SHIT. For those of us who pride ourselves with having the gift of rationale, it is so difficult to comprehend the fact that hormones have, in fact, temporarily stripped us of that gift, but take my word for it: you sound crazy. I sound crazy. We all sound fucking crazy. So shut your fucking mouth, wait for the insanity to subside, and then breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t say that thing you were just DYING to say that probably would have resulted in your fed-up man leaving you for good.
Advice To Men -
During this sensitive time, what you REALLY want to do is go anywhere and do anything that doesn’t involve HER crazy ass. Understandably. But you know those feral stay-the-fuck-away-from-me vibes that she’s emanating at full-force? Oh, the irony! She actually wants, more than anything in the world, for you to take her in your strong arms and cuddle her like the big, amazing hunk of a stud you are and whisper comforting words of love into her irritated ears. I know! It’s the last thing in the world you feel like doing! So ignore that snide remark she made about your best friend, remind yourself that the full-body swelling is causing her obvious discomfort, and snuggle the shit out of the little bitch, which, if you’re lucky, will cause the bitch to be exorcised from the girl you know and love.
[Originally published February 1, 2009]
Author: Britt Warner
Comments
UGH it’s even worse as a singer! our hormones sometimes change how we actually sound, it’s hard to maintain breath support when you’re doubling over in agonizing abdominal pain, and you can’t remember words because all you wanna do is curl up and cry. blah. fuck menstruation.
I lol’d: “To all the guys out there who can’t begin to comprehend why ‘bitches be crazy’…”
…..Still, bitches be crazy. haha.
Best description of PMS I’ve heard. Thank you for the honesty (like you always do). It takes guts to tell it like it is.
Good advice for the guys Britt, except you forgot to tell them to wear their cup (and if available, body armor)when they attempt to cuddle her. Voice of experience here, she can go from melting in your arms to attacking you like a mama griz protecting her young in a heart-beat! But really, what most guys are going to focus on from your bolg is the temporary relief from orgasms, and the way our minds work that means we just need to provide her with numerous orgasms until the storm clouds pass and the wailing of the sirens dies. The added plus for us is that if we use this method faithfuly we won’t suffer DSB (clinical term; Dreaded Sperm Build-up) which is the male equivilant and companion to PMS.
haha wayne good insight, but trust me…sperm build up doesn’t compare with pms. just masturbate. we can’t masturbate away pms. an orgasm relieves some women for maybe 10 seconds to a minute. after that, we’re right back to bears clawing our abdomens.
“…if you’ve ever smoked waaaay too much pot, you MIGHT be able to understand what it’s like to PMS.”
You know how sometimes the cure to an ailment is the exact opposite of what makes sense? (Ritalin, similar to cocaine, as treatment for ADD for example) Well I think you’ve just found something that blows Vicodin out of the water. Not to sound like a complete druggie here, but pot just makes all your PMS problems melt away….
Liv’s exactly right, Wayne. The relief is soooo momentary that, orgasm or no orgasm, we’re pretty much screwed.
Sony – I’ve definitely heard of pot helping with PMS and cramps…but not for me. Trust me, I’ve tried it! Still in pain, only high. I DO recommend that every woman at least try it, though, in case you happen to be one of those lucky beeyotches that it actually works for.
haha…on point as always. I say you take over Cosmo cause theyve been writing about this stuff for years and still haven’t gotten it right. Cheers!