I guess I wasn't kidding when I picked the URL for this blog. I do seem to get here about once a month. Although this month's ovulation rage has passed already and I am already into the lovely bleeding. There, that should scare away all but the most dedicated readers.
So I've realized that my entire life is ruled by hormones. First, I bleed. The first day of THAT, I am so tired I can hardly move about. But, I am usually in a good mood. Good mood lasts through that week, and then the next. The third week brings the RAGE, which my friend J. and I dubbed "ovulation rage" a few years ago. PMS is bad. Ovulation rage is about four steps past the worst PMS. Since it's not actually pre-period, but halfway between, we realized it was something else. Then we realized, huh, one OVULATES halfway between. If I ever wanted to get pregnant, ovulation rage would make it very easy for me. I would simply pick the day where I feel like screaming and smacking people the most, insert semen, and bingo, that would be it. The rage itself varies from a generalized misanthropic rage--and not misandry as in man-hating*, but rather humankind hating--to picking fights with friends, co-workers, family, and people in public places. Since I at least know that I'm a complete bitch during that week, I usually try to avoid as much human contact as possible with anyone who might possibly get on my nerves. Unfortunately, that's mostly everyone.
Anyway. After ovulation rage comes the week of depression and anxiety. Then, I have two or three days when I am so anxious about money that my mother will simply just hear the tone of my voice and hang up on me and send me a check. Then, thankfully, the bleeding begins again.
Yes, you read that right. I only get three weeks in between blood. It sucks. I was once on what I like to call the white trash shot, aka depo provera. It was so wonderful because for almost 4 years, I didn't bleed at all. I still had something of an emotional cycle, but NOTHING like without the depo. I would usually just find myself very irritable for a few days without knowing why. But since I was involved in a relationship during that era with a man who would not speak, cook, clean, or do anything but watch TV 23 hours a day, I was only surprised I wasn't more irritable more of the time.
Now, of course, I've learned that they believe that the white trash shot may postpone menopause, which makes perfect sense, seeing as you don't release eggs while on it. Great. I may bleed for another 30 years. Wouldn't THAT be a joy?
At this point in my life, I can't imagine actually ever giving birth. Aside from the fact that I'm 38, which is old anyway, I have a relative with Down's syndrome. My chances of having a down's syndrome child are something ridiculous like a 5 or 10 percent chance at my age. That's a big fucking chance.
[I did try, briefly, in college, to be a manhater, but stopped when I kept getting in trouble for sneaking my many male friends into the college Women's Center which was a "womyn-only space". Rather like my womb at the time.]