i was having a very dramatic day last week. It was one that is so dramatic that the only way I got through it was to write dramatic poetry about doing myself in. I found a line near my eye I hadn't seen before and decided that my life was over and I should leave the earth. This is not a cry for help post. I am fine and see the actual humor in my emo thoughts. I mean I am dating a man nearly 20 years my senior and I don't think he even notices a new line. But I had it in my head he would leave me for a 22 year old and that definitely my life was over and I would start needing Geritol and a walker any day. I don't judge women by lines. Women are beautiful at every age. I was completely nuts.
What this is about is PMS. I have never had this dreaded monster visit me before. Lucky me! I have a new friend. It has been happening for the last 3 months and I HATE IT! I do not become bitchy. Oh no! I don't get the joy of scaring people away with my spinning head. I always wished I could be a bitchy woman that kept people in line with the PMS look. I looked forward to a few days of peace while those around me licked their wounds and feared my wrath. They might actually keep the house clean or let me sleep past 5 am. Nope. I get depressed and weepy and completely irrational. I feel like the world hates me and I am the biggest and most worthless person in all of the world. I had myself believing that even Jeffrey Dahmer was loved by his parents, but I was hated for being me. It was insane and NOT my norm, trust me. It was like Pollyanna on meth and and opium. Mood swing galore.
Anyone have any advice? Do you have advice for normal PMS cases or for those like mine? It isn't bad enough that women deal with cramps, bleeding for a week or so, breakouts, brand new panties getting ruined (and not in fun way like having them ripped off), etc. We have to deal with crazy mood swings too?! HELP!
LOL Here is one of my PMS poems. I think I will start saving them to see how nuts I get lately thanks to glorious PMS. LOL
If she didn’t sing her morning song
The day would still begin.
If tomorrow she doesn’t tell you
You’ll still feel her love within.
If her camera sits here but
The picture is still there.
The silly smile, the funny face,
The sad yet hopeful stare.
A few words of prose
A passage of time
Imperfect stanzas and rhetoric
Have reason without rhyme.
Her laughter lights the world alive
To harm, she wouldn’t dare
Rarely speaking other than of joy
The pain she chose not to share.
The little girl that still lives inside
Still wishes on the stars
Her heart is young and clean and pure
Regardless of the scars.
A girl with sunlight in her yellow hair
Her face and years betray
Her beauty once called timeless
Dries and fades away.
Her purpose here?
To love and serve and make the others smile
To find the joy through all the pain
And dance for a short while.
But dignity and looks intact
To lose it she could not abide
The one thing she would never lose
Is the beauty that’s inside.
To most that would seem enough
But she lost so many years
Living to please others
And fighting all the fears.
Crying for those gone before
No, enough tears have been shed
And those who live within our hearts
Are never old and never dead.
They dance and live as little ones
With a sweet smile and a pretty face
We remember them as they were brand new
As if they never fell from grace.
As that she would ask of us
Is to remember the good within her
A bit prettier, a bit smarter
And, for goodness sake, much thinner!