I am 32 years old. Due to being treated wtih multiple forms of hormonal birth control over the last 14 years I've never really had to deal with my menustral period. The hormone dosage always made it so my "period" didn't actually occur, thus I had no pain, discomfort, or mess ruining my plans.
This has since changed.
I went on anti-depressants in the form of Zoloft last year to combat my ongoing anxiety and depression issues while in talk therapy. I didn't want any kind of hormones being given to me that might affect how the anti-depressants would work. I was outfitted with a regular copper non-hormone IUD last year, and came off of the hormones completely.
Thus now? I am in severe pain when "that time of the month" comes around. Right now I have pain in my back, in my stomach and a headache. This can last for nearly two weeks for me - off an on pain as well as blood. It's like my body is making up for lost time.
Now, I realize this is not something most people want to hear about. It's disgusting or icky or whatever. And yes I've heard the joke "Never trust anything that bleeds for two weeks but remains alive...." but let's face it, kids, this is part of the natural life.
And if it's part of natural life that means *I* get to talk about it. Or at least make horrible jokes of my own about it to my friends:
Megan C [1:42 PM]:
I want to yank my uterus out with salad tongs at this rate.
Would you like to have my uterus for a pet? It does tricks!
Lisa C [1:42 PM]:
lol no thx
Megan C [1:43 PM]:
Bummer. Do you know of any humane societies that accept wayward uteruses? uterii? whichever.
Lisa C [1:43 PM]:
lmfao no... but there should be!
The little sarcastic things make my life more bearable overall.
15 June 2008
To Be On Imaginary Drugs
So far this week I've been asked twice if I'm on drugs when I've said something a bit off beat. Well, I'm not, I just have a hyperactive imagination that allows me to wonder what it would be liked to be corpse camped by a platypus instead of a priest of World of Warcraft. Would you sit there laughing or just be annoyed that a mammal that lays eggs is keeping you from rezzing safely?
Perhaps it is true that I am not like the rest of the world. My therapist, Rita, says that my inner child is fully integrated into my personality and she is quite healthy. She, unlike, the rest of the world things this is a good thing because it still allows me to feel hope and wonder about the big bad world no matter what it throws my way.
It also allows me to still enjoy movies like Kung Fu Panda fully with the rest of the kids in the audience, despite being 32. I giggled when Poe destroyed a kitchen in the search of almond cookies, i felt sad when the other kung fu students insulted him for being unlike them. And i fully enjoyed it to the point of recommenging it even if everyone else views it as a "kids movie."
Granted I suppose I can see other people's point of view when I spout off some of my more odd comments. But it's not like I'm trying to be like this, this is just who I am. I'm the woman who wants to be a snuffleupagus when she grows up. I think it'd be way cool to have my own snuffle and to live on Sesame Street so I could talk to Big Bird whenever I want.
Why be something normal with so much responsibility in the real world? Why not be a shaggy elephant type creature who can rollerskate better than I do on my two human feet...? How is that so wrong when you consider the realistic alternatives...
Being an adult human is hard to do especially in these hard economic times, with all the uncertainty of how I'm going to pay for rent, gas, electric and food. If i can spend a few minutes here and there expounding on the coolness of kids tv shows, or wondering how good a walrus would be as a warlock in World of Warcraft, why am I being asked if I'm on drugs?
Have I done drugs? Why yes I have.
You know what I discovered when drunk and high? I found that I'd rather be sober with my imagination and in control of who I am; than out of control, paranoid, and feeling sick as a substance takes my mind on a roller coaster ride.
To me there is something comfortable about being different from the people who can only talk about what they saw on TV last night. It's comforting, even if it's lonely sometimes. And sometimes I do find people who understand where I'm coming from. When that happens the world clicks into place again and the smile that tickles who I am, bursts forth into full shine on my face.
In other news, my efforts in feeding the wild animals in the back yard is paying off. There is a rabbit that comes every day to gnosh in the afternoon, a very unrabbit hour for him/her to be out. Every time I see that fuzzy grayness in my backyard I hug myself and smile.... it makes me feel special.
Perhaps it is true that I am not like the rest of the world. My therapist, Rita, says that my inner child is fully integrated into my personality and she is quite healthy. She, unlike, the rest of the world things this is a good thing because it still allows me to feel hope and wonder about the big bad world no matter what it throws my way.
It also allows me to still enjoy movies like Kung Fu Panda fully with the rest of the kids in the audience, despite being 32. I giggled when Poe destroyed a kitchen in the search of almond cookies, i felt sad when the other kung fu students insulted him for being unlike them. And i fully enjoyed it to the point of recommenging it even if everyone else views it as a "kids movie."
Granted I suppose I can see other people's point of view when I spout off some of my more odd comments. But it's not like I'm trying to be like this, this is just who I am. I'm the woman who wants to be a snuffleupagus when she grows up. I think it'd be way cool to have my own snuffle and to live on Sesame Street so I could talk to Big Bird whenever I want.
Why be something normal with so much responsibility in the real world? Why not be a shaggy elephant type creature who can rollerskate better than I do on my two human feet...? How is that so wrong when you consider the realistic alternatives...
Being an adult human is hard to do especially in these hard economic times, with all the uncertainty of how I'm going to pay for rent, gas, electric and food. If i can spend a few minutes here and there expounding on the coolness of kids tv shows, or wondering how good a walrus would be as a warlock in World of Warcraft, why am I being asked if I'm on drugs?
Have I done drugs? Why yes I have.
You know what I discovered when drunk and high? I found that I'd rather be sober with my imagination and in control of who I am; than out of control, paranoid, and feeling sick as a substance takes my mind on a roller coaster ride.
To me there is something comfortable about being different from the people who can only talk about what they saw on TV last night. It's comforting, even if it's lonely sometimes. And sometimes I do find people who understand where I'm coming from. When that happens the world clicks into place again and the smile that tickles who I am, bursts forth into full shine on my face.
In other news, my efforts in feeding the wild animals in the back yard is paying off. There is a rabbit that comes every day to gnosh in the afternoon, a very unrabbit hour for him/her to be out. Every time I see that fuzzy grayness in my backyard I hug myself and smile.... it makes me feel special.
10 June 2008
Of Oatmeal and Driving Slow...
Nathan asks me while on the phone -
"Megan, why do people drive so slow?"
Speaking from my non-linear chains of thought I responded spontaneously:
"They drive so slow, because they are scared of the faery nazis hijacking their cars, slashing their tires and turning them into bowls of oatmeal."
Nathan bursts out laughing and we proceed to speak of the psuedo-philosophy question of "How do you know you aren't a blueberry muffin?" Since the term blueberry muffin is a human word which is a concept for human perception... thus you might be a blueberry muffin to a goldfish.
Nathan asks, "Why are you working for us?"
I reply, "Making money."
He said, "Good Answer."
Kurt, meanwhile, is laughing at me.
"Megan, why do people drive so slow?"
Speaking from my non-linear chains of thought I responded spontaneously:
"They drive so slow, because they are scared of the faery nazis hijacking their cars, slashing their tires and turning them into bowls of oatmeal."
Nathan bursts out laughing and we proceed to speak of the psuedo-philosophy question of "How do you know you aren't a blueberry muffin?" Since the term blueberry muffin is a human word which is a concept for human perception... thus you might be a blueberry muffin to a goldfish.
Nathan asks, "Why are you working for us?"
I reply, "Making money."
He said, "Good Answer."
Kurt, meanwhile, is laughing at me.
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