Day 325: There Will Be Blood

Get ready. I’m going to go there.

Ladies and Gents, I wouldn’t write this post if I didn’t think that it was absolutely necessary.

But, if I’m going to accurately document sobriety I have to say it: Getting your period in sobriety is a whole new shade of crazy.

I thought I was bitchy, hormonal, and straight up nasty when I started my cycle before I got sober. And, it’s not something that I ever thought I’d have to negotiate in a new way. Folks, I’m no spring chicken. I’ve been getting my period for a long time. And, I thought I knew the ins and out of this joyous slice of female life. I was so, so wrong about that.

The longer I’m sober, the more I feel. And, as most of you ladies (and men who deal with us) know, our cycle is not always the highlight of the month. But, in sobriety, those feelings that I’m still learning to feel and deal with, suddenly, take on epic proportions when my cycle rolls around. Unfortunately for me, I’m still not always aware when those epic feelings are heightened as a result of these hormonal spikes, so, I just think I am batshit crazy. And, truthfully, I still think I might be.

I take things to such an extreme when I’m PMSing in sobriety, that I lose sight of everything. I get to a point where death seems inviting. And, for days at a time, there’s no end in sight. And then, I get my period.

It’s like a fucking biblical revelation.

Of course! This is why I’ve been a maniacal lunatic! It becomes so simple. This reason is so obvious and logical in hindsight, yet, just days before, I was positive the world was going to explode as I shot lasers from my crazy-bitch-eyes deep into the Earth’s core.

Do yourself a solid: Plan for your fucking period. You have to know it’s coming. Map that shit out. You have to be aware that the crazy, unpredictable, and Earth shatteringly depressing thoughts that race through your (or your partner’s) mind, are not, in fact, real. They are the manifestation of female psychosis that will bore a hole into your soul and mind if you’re not careful.

Sorry if you think me crude or explicit. But, bitches, plan ahead: There will be blood.


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