Pms is so wild and I need to whine about it
Obvious TW’s, but also a vague mention of suicide. (Not sure if this qualifies as nsfw, nothing graphic at all)
I go through this shit every month. I get super depressed, and my brain goes back to old issues that I’ve otherwise resolved/don’t have feelings about on a normal day, then I check my tracker and surprise, my period’s coming. Like all this old shit just comes to the surface like I squeezed a pimple or smth. (Also, every joint in my body constantly feels like it needs to be popped and/or just wrung out like a towel, and I’m dizzy and cold and hungry all the time, but that’s irrelevant, me-being-a-baby stuff)
It’s at a point where I didn’t even track it for like 3 months bc I just felt it. I basically stop sleeping (so great when I have a major exam to hopefully get my teaching license tomorrow), then sleep like 11 hours on the day I start bleeding to compensate for it. My brain goes “you should’ve offed yourself x amount of years ago” and I’m like “wow, I gotta check the tracker” and 9/10 times, I’m right.
I keep looking up therapy (even tho I had some bad experiences with it in the past and while I have a lot of respect for the people who do it, didn’t/don’t find it super useful for my specific case), then scheduling something, getting my period, realizing “ohhhh, that’s why”, and cancelling it. I’ve done this like three times now, because the problem I’m seeking help for always passes, and it’s not like talking is gonna control the hormones changing in my body (plus, talking usually makes it worse because it’s so clearly irrational and I will, in fact, get over it soon, so it’s not worth dwelling on, especially if I need to step out of a session to go interact with other humans. I’m emotionally rubbed raw as it is, why add fuel to the fire?).
Of course, I’m a hypocrite saying all that, given that I do have a first appt scheduled (the saga continues, since said appt is probably gonna be post-period and so, will probably be cancelled again 💀)
And I can’t even talk to anyone I’m close with about it—-my friends are too new/not that kind of friendship and the few family relationships I have (it’s complicated lmao) are part of the old “metaphorical scabs”.
Anyway, I’m a little over a week off from it, which is also when my semester + student-teaching kick off (yay, I guess). I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight and I’m working at 9AM with a new tutoring student so loads of talking/interacting and trying to project good vibes.
It’s nice, I guess, to be glad when I bleed, because it means the end is in sight. I guess that’s an upsetting sight for most girls/women. But this is…not fun.
I feel like I should add: I’m not gonna do anything, no plans, no notes, nothing like that. I know what a passing storm from my brain/body looks and feels like and I know it’ll be fine in two weeks. I just need to mope now. This isn’t me baiting or making a threat.