November 4, 2013

Am I Ovary-Acting?

If my ovaries were women, they'd
be the btiches hanging around out
back smoking and making fun of
all the happy people.
The other day, while I was driving home, I lost it. I started to think of ...something when all of a sudden a steady stream of tears began to cascade down my face. Try as I might, I could not figure out what, in the flaming hell, was happening to me. The whole week went like that as I struggled to keep myself intact in work meetings, presentations, and even telephone calls. In the end, I chalked it up to burnout (I have been working a lot lately).

Yesterday, I lost it. I was so upset at my manfriend and his lack of thought, I felt a potent and toxic mixture of hurt, despair, and anger rise up from places I didn't know existed.  I shook, raised my voice, and yes...even said a few things I would regret later. I chalked that one up to a thoughtless manfriend. Today, I have experienced waves of despair, happiness, hope, sadness, anxiety, and emotions I don't believe have been named yet. What the hell is happening to me? Could it be hormonal? Naaaaaaaaaaaah.

The sad and confusing truth of it is, it could be hormonal. When I think about this long enough I just get pissed off (not to mention sad, hurt, and hopeless followed by excited and joyful coupled with a crazy laugh). It used to be PMS was something I could look forward to a few days before "aunt flo came to town", but now - from what I understand from Samantha on Sex and the City - I could be experiencing month long PMS due to pre-menopause (is there even such a thing????). Note: while this blog is dedicated to critical thinking and weeding out the snake oil, if it's on Sex and the City it must be true.

This morning, as I was integrating spinning with the viewing of some classic Sex and the City (remember the one where Samantha thinks she is in pre-menopause and dates that "hey babe" guy out of depression?), the girls were discussing some of the symptoms one can look forward to as they age (and dry up). Stupid frickin hormones! Stupid frickin aging!

So now I find myself doubting my own emotions knowing that some of my reactions (my ovary-actions) could be heavily influenced by whatever hormones control for crazy.  Do I really think that movie is sad or is it my hormones? Should I really be this angry over those dirty gardening gloves on the kitchen counter top or is it my hormones? Is that puppy commercial so cute it makes me cry or IS IT MY HORMONES?????


If I had any energy I would create a pre-menopausal survival kit for the poor woman who has to experience this. In it I would include the nice chocolates from the store downtown, a stress ball (to throw at someone), a screw top bottle of wine with no glass, a stop watch to help count down the seconds as I wait for that deep breath to complete and I can throttle the tail-gaiter behind me, lotsa tissue, and finally the special glasses needed to see through the hormones and focus on the real emotions (the woman who invents those will be a trillionaire).

That's all I have to say. I'm irritated by the subject matter now and must surf Pintrest.

K

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