Living with a Monster

Let me start off by saying that this will be a very one sided view of things. But you know what, I don't care.

Boys suck. It’s like they have no care in the world, they’re just skipping along their merry life without a worry. It must be nice to not have to worry about anything, while in the mean time, I live with a monster. She is a beast; a ravenous, murderous creature who is hell bent on ruining my life. They have no idea what that’s like. It’s not like I’m completely OBLIVIOUS when she takes over, I mean, I HAVE EARS, I CAN HEAR HER. But I can’t stop it and I can’t control her. She is evil. 

She is crazy, the kind of crazy I wouldn’t pass in a dark alley…or even a light alley…or even anywhere. I’d basically just avoid her at all costs. I’d cross the street so I didn’t even have to make eye contact with her, that’s how crazy she is. I do my best to keep her at bay, but you know what, sometimes she just breaks every one of my resolves to contain her. She’s a master at the art of torture. She’s resilient and tenacious and patient as she cuts each and every one of my restraints holding her back. Slowly, ever so slowly, she takes them apart; three weeks goes by without a peep, but I know she’s just silently working away, waiting for the most inopportune moment to strike. I do my best guys, I really do. But she is better. Picking her moment, she explodes to life, like the scene in Alien where the monster harboring deep inside her violently bursts through her rib cage… you know the one. Yup, it’s just like that.

Not only is she homicidal and irrational but she’s also just straight up mean. For a week straight she constantly tells me I’m bloated, that I’m ugly and that my face is covered in pimples so good luck NOT looking like a leper! And she eats everything! Not caring AT ALL what my diet restrictions are. She just wants it and by golly, she’s going to get it! She doesn’t care, it’s not her waist line she’s worried about. She’s going to eat anything and everything she can, but she focuses on the main food groups: chocolate, carbs, fried carbs, sugar, and peanut butter. I think she does it just to spite me.

But really, back to the main point. Guys really have no idea what it’s like. They just don’t. They think that ‘PMS’ is an excuse and they either think it’s total BS or they think it turns us into some mythical creature that they have to avoid for 7 days for fear of their life. They think we over dramatize everything that we’re going through and that it couldn’t possibly be as bad as it seems. Well, let me just ask this, how do you think it would feel to have your body waging a war on itself? To literally have the walls of your organ be continually violently ripping apart. Doesn’t sound like much fun does it? It’s not.

They’ll never know what it’s like to feel like you have no control over your emotions. Why do your hormones never pick to be exquisitely happy?? No, it’s either unaccountable rage or desperate sobbing. They will never know what it’s like to put on your favorite jeans that fit the day before and no longer button because you're bloated. They’ll never experience the dread that comes from planning vacation time around your 7 day stint in Hell, only to have it jump forward 5 days and ruin everything. Have they CAMPED in 100 degree heat when they were basically bleeding out? NO. They will never experience the horror of being 13 and starting your period in the middle of class and have to deal with the repercussions of trying to hide the evidence under a sweatshirt tied around your waist. The embarrassment one feels in their teen years at co-ed swim parties or trying to contain the monster so the cute boy in your college history class doesn’t think you’re a crazy person. They'll never experience feeling like an alien is trying to saw through their uterus with a dull blade, and when that doesn’t work, goes at it with it's sharp teeth until it’s been shredded into pieces. They’ll never experience that specific kind of nausea or eat everything but never stop feeling starving. The truth is, boys just don’t get it. And they never will.

The best we can do is band together. There’s no beating it, all we can do is put on our *period mix* and take a hot shower or grab a box of See's chocolates and maybe a quesadilla from Taco Bell and then watch reruns of Scandal until it passes. Seriously, watching Kerry Washington (i.e. Olivia Pope) destroy the boys will make you feel better. Trust me.