Posted by: Hannah | 10/28/2013

caught again

Stuck. STUCK STUCK STUCK.

Last week I spent two days alternately in a red rage or weeping softly because my poor children deserve a better mother than me. I had a migraine so intense I vomited a couple of times. Everything made me either so angry I had to leave the room, or so very sad that all I could do was look out the window and bite my lower lip while tears went all down the sides of my nose and made my sinuses ache.

On Wednesday evening the two younger boys had swimming lessons. The pool is part of a large community centre, with a library attached. Michael took the boys in the pool while I accompanied Harry to the library. I tried to interest him in some non-fiction titles and he politely declined to care, head down in a huge thick book about the Star Wars universe.

WOE IS ME FOR I DO NOT KNOW MY OWN CHILD.

I then went to watch the swimming lessons in progress and saw Ron actually leap off the side of the pool, no hesitation, without a lifejacket, pool noodle, flutterboard, or a hand to hold. And then he swam a stroke or two.

AND NOW I WEEP FOR I AM SO PROUD OF MAH BAAAAABBBEEEEE.

I cried two more times on the way home, once because Michael made some offhanded comment that I would normally find funny and once because the sky was so pretty.

On Thursday morning the migraine was gone. I had energy to burn. I loved the world. I… oh. OH.

Shark Week, goddammit, we just went through this. I could have sworn we had an agreement that the next time I’m a headachy, vomiting, weepy, angry mess for two days that you would send me a text or something reminding me that Charlie’s in the bush and he needs reinforcements!*

Not once did Michael even hint that I might be an irrational mess because of my stupid hormones, and I’d like to thank him publicly for that right now. Sensible. Smart man I have there.

But holy god. If this is what peri-menopause looks like, I’d like to just skip the next several years, if possible.

 

*I think it was Maggie who taught me that one. Anyway, whoever it was – thank you. Very apt.

 

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Responses

  1. The last time *I* got all emotional about something, Mr said “Are you getting your period or something?” I was. Huh.

    • He’s either exceptionally clued-in to your moods, or totally heedless of personal risk.

  2. I am so very tired of the entire hormonal cycle. Over 30 years of this nonsense and instead of getting better, it seems to be getting worse. Peri-menopause sucks. It feels like every month for a few days my life is totally awful and unmanageable and all is ashes. Then, Charlie arrives and everything makes sense. BAH!

    • YES. I’m tired of riding this particular dragon every four weeks.

  3. WARNING I AM ABOUT TO OVERSHARE!!!!!

    Because I have always had erratic cycles (28 days! Now 21! Now 35!), I can never tell when I’m pre-menstrual versus generically cranky. No one should tell my husband that some women have regular cycles and mood swings that can be plotted and tracked montly because he will leave me for a woman who is “regular.” THIS IS OUR SECRET, INTERWEBS!!!

    • The horrifying this is that mine *is* regular and it still catches me off-guard every single time. If I had a cycle like yours, I’d probably cast off the trappings of this modern life and live on a mountain in a yurt. (Your secret is safe with us.)

  4. What Maggie said – this perimenopause thing is making it all harder, and weepier, and yellier, and I am OVER IT. Can I skip ahead 10 years or so, and call it done?

    • I know. I’m so tired of hating myself for three days a month.

  5. I did ALL THAT EXACT STUFF – migraine, barfing, staring at child in disbelief, breathless with pride, crying because the TREES were so pretty. Yeah. We’re all blood sisters.

    • I read that the new DSM-V classifies pre-menstrual syndrome as an actual mental illness. I absolutely recognize that this is problematic for a whole host of reasons (“no female Prime Ministers! they’re mentally incapacitated on a regular schedule!”) but my first reaction was ABOUT TIME. I know I shouldn’t make any decisions during that time, because I’m really not firing on all cylinders.

  6. *hug*


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