I’ve been on a new contraceptive pill to deal with my mood swings. My PMS has at times made my life fucking hellish and now at the gloriously teetering age of 29, I have fucking had enough.
I don’t believe PMS and periods are taken seriously enough. I mean they’re women’s problems and revolve around the downstairs department so it’s no wonder. It wouldn’t be proper to talk about anything relating to the (hushed time) vagina just like it wouldn’t be proper to talk about what a prostate examination really entails.
How are women ever going to feel comfortable talking about their periods when our history derived the word hysterectomy from hysteria.
Hysteria was a mental disorder almost exclusive for women. We were lucky enough to even have our femininity attached to the name. May I introduce you to ‘female hysteria’. A mental disorder. And the treatment… You guessed it! A fucking hysterectomy. They would cut the uterus out of a woman because they believed it to be the reason for a perceived lunacy. Associating the condition of a person’s mental health with a particular body part of one sex is the lunacy thank you doctor dumb dumb. If this was still common practice I would have been locked up uterus- less years ago.
So there has been progression but not enough for when it comes to talking about it. This ridiculous ‘time of the month’ culture that instantly belittles and dismisses a woman is still very much prevalent in this day and age. It seems to have bred a bragging culture too between women having the worst period. It’s almost like you’ve told someone you’re tired…
What with both women and men negatively responding to periods it’s no wonder we don’t talk about it. It’s so much easier to shy away from the topic that suppresses you than to address it.
My PMS has led me to quit jobs, end relationships, self harm, isolate myself to the point of crippling loneliness and be an all round awful decision maker. I had no self esteem, I couldn’t commit to anything and I was bat shit anxious about everything.
I mean driving to the shops and not being able to get out of the car.
I mean having to get off the tube and go outside several times because you feel you’re going to faint.
I mean crying uncontrollably when a gathering switches venues.
I mean holding your piss in for hours and when finally building up the courage to go to the toilet not being able to piss anyway because you’re too tense.
I mean fabricating a mouse living in your kitchen. (True story. I was convinced it was living in the concrete floor and I stopped eating properly for a few weeks)
I mean having sleep paralysis
I mean spontaneously spending money you didn’t have in the first place
I mean becoming so irritated that you squeeze your arms because the tensions match and bring fleeting relief
I mean not being able to control your weight
I mean so many things and more…
It has governed my life for most of it and I only now know the extent because I’m on a different pill.
I take Yasmin now and I’m still equally as emotional and sensitive as before. I actually cry more now. But I feel in control. Yasmin has just filed down the rough and jagged edges enough for me to function a lot more easily.
Society’s inconceivable shyness around the woman’s reproductive system has cost me years. So if you have a slight inkling your periods are messed up, don’t listen to the digs or the woman who’s period is worse than yours, go to that one lovely doctor you trust at your GP surgery. There are so many contraceptive pills, one will fit.
Life is too beautiful to not be able to enjoy it so find a way.