However, the past few months my cycle has regulated, and brought with it the extreme PMDD that I thought I'd escaped when my uterus lost all sense of rhythm. PMDD is a sneaky bitch.
So let me tell you about this month's Hell Week. It kicked off with my walking into the studio, which bleaders know as my entropic walk-in closet room which is layered over, under, and between actual art supplies. When I walked in, I saw this:
|This would be a huge hole in the ceiling plaster hovering threateningly|
above every journal I've used since age sixteen.
Meanwhile, my breasts hurt like a pregnant woman (not a possibility, and I'll get into that in a moment) and my face did this:
|Selfie with zits. You're welcome?|
My disclaimer here is that I have for reals, medically diagnosed, weapons-grade PMDD. I'm not a poster child for "a woman in the White House would be irrational and unstable. Girls CRY!!!" It's idiotic to even write that but we've all heard guys sincerely argue this. And if they argue this during Hell Week I usually slash their tires and bash in their wind shields.
So I should probably get it under control again, yeah?
I'm going to tackle my diet. The success before when I eliminated soy and dairy is inspiring me. Oddly, I saw a post about cycle-related breast tenderness that said to add soy, that it would flush out the built-up estrogen. That sounds crazy to me- but I'm not an endocrinologist. In my body, eliminating soy was a great thing. So I'm on the soy-free wagon.
Another word about Hell Week- I had a discussion with Lissa Rankin, MD years ago about using more positive terminology, and she wrote this post at Owning Pink with my art & my dilemma paraphrased a bit. "Rebranding" was a cool idea, but I'm a weird one. I like the idea and the sound of Hell Week. (Stay with me- I'm going to the goofy place.) It reminds me of Buffy's Hellmouth, and that in turn reminds me of righteous demon slaying woman power. It pleases me to speak of Hell Week, and in case you're curious, we call my actual period Red Tent Week. I'm very asexual then, and I'd happily segregate myself with other bleeding ladies if I could. Maybe some chanting priestesses and herbal tea.
And a chocolate fountain.
|Righteous Demon Slaying Woman Power|
via Fanpop's collage-making goodness.