An Open Letter To All Men Regarding PMS

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I cannot speak for all women, but I will speak to all men.*

Let me start with the days before the period. These are my most uncomfortable, nearly unbearable days. And these are the ones that you want to laugh off as Pre-Menstrual Syndrome...

At first I notice nothing. My body holds it's breath; it is waiting. I will not have a bowel movement for a few days. Not overly significant, nor noticeable at first... but eventually, as the fist closes about my intestines, I feel more than bloated ~ I feel as if my insides are not only plugged, but filled with cement.

It is subtle, this creeping hold on my body ~ but quickly it becomes an iron fist. Not only do my insides not move, but the grip is so tight that I am in a constant state of awareness. I am on alert. I smell everything ~ including odors & sounds my cat cannot. So now I am nauseous and alert. And I am unable to sleep...

This happens from anywhere between 1 and 4 days. And then slowly, another change...

Inside, I feel rubbed raw. It's like living with 30 cats inside you. Pointy cats with gnashing teeth, sharp claws, high pitched screams and low growly moans ~ even the tongues are rough and abrasive. But these irritations, the pointy things, these all create movement. In a body which has been bound & frozen, finally the vibrations slowly loosen then iron fist... and then, everything must exit. All old stool, all old womb materials, and at some points, perhaps an organ ~ or at least a part of my brain... It all rushes out with a force that well, we ladies don't like to talk about... and unlike bathroom episodes of this nature after a night of partying, we had no fun the night before. (Days of insomnia, remember?)

Once this happens, and I am bleeding, I may sleep... And if I do, please, do not wake me up...

With all of this going on in my body, I try to work past it or in spite of it. I put up with petty annoyances, dumb comments, outright insults and other humiliations ~ just as all humans do everyday. Only these daily slights are on top of a body which is so coiled, that it seems there will be no way to override my natural impulse to spring. How can I keep myself from crying with exhaustion, fear and frustration? Or from destroying... something... anything...

So, is it any wonder that your dumbass comments such as 'You must be on the rag, because you sure are one' or other insensitive statements about my moodiness are unwelcome?

You, dear reader, are free to leave. You may get up and walk away. I, however, may not.

I am stuck with the cats, explosions, and emotional residues.

I envy your ability to receive relief from the onslaught of misery. I would wish to check out of all of this, to be spared... but where ever I go, the anguish goes too.

While it is true, your socks on the floor (as smelly as they are ~ as rude as it is of you to leave them there) may not bother me if I weren't on the rag, but they do bother me now. It may seem to you that my reaction is more on par with me discovering you cheating, or that you had killed my cat, rather than 'just socks' ~ but hear this & know it: If I am reacting this strongly, this violently, this over-the-top, that's how I feel, damnit!

It's not a choice on my part. It's as real as if you had been caught in bed screwing another with my cat's dead body on the floor beside you. Yes. It is that real.

You may say that my reality is distorted. You may think me insane. But then, doesn't that make me even more dangerous? Should you really laugh at the woman who regularly takes your genitals into her hands, her pussy ~ her mouth with her own pointy teeth...

And should you laugh, mock or deride when you, my dear man, have similar issues on a daily basis?

Yes, it's true. You cycle daily. Hence your morning wood. Your morning mood ("cranky & aggressive" some days, "bullish & boorish" on others). And hence my having to suffer with you each morning.

If I dismiss your morning wood as merely biological, that it too will pass, you become indignant (or see the other morning adjectives as listed above) and demand that I retract such a statement. My pointing out the fact seemingly threatens your manhood, makes you feel invalidated as a loving male in a committed relationship, or both. My best reaction is to put out or put up with it. The same as you must do with my monthly cycles.

Just as my pointing out the facts doesn't make that wood, that urge go away (at least not the way you want, right?), neither does your fact pointing about me being on the rag. You'll just have to deal.

If I can live through this part of the month, trapped as I am, you, who are able to leave and get a break, surely can.

So just deal with it, Spanky. Or it's back to solo monkey business for you.

* This is how my cycle goes ~ it will vary from woman to woman, but your response, as a male, had better be the same: understand as best you can, accept it as fact, and deal with it.


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