This won't be the prettiest text I've made and brace yourself if you're a dude.
Sometimes I hate being a woman. I'd say statistically once per month I prefer calling myself Juuso (Finnish boys name) than Jutta. Of course I'm referring to the bloody mess called period.
There's millions of jokes about women turning into werewolves and we poor bastards can't do shit about it. There are those who survive with only a few cramps and chocolate bars and oh boy I envy those people.
I happen to be one of those unlucky bastards that Get It All. The whole package!
I remember my first period. Of course you're expecting it to happen at some point and you talk about it with your friends. Holy smokes I couldn't understand one of my friends who wanted them to start so bad. I thought it would be the end of my childhood and who the hell wants to suffer monthly for a week of time for the next 40 years?
Sadly, in the glory age of 14 at a gym class, I had to gave in. Because I'm a bit slow and it's a whole new experience, it was quite a shock. Did I just shit my pants and not noticed doing so?
Thank god for black pants. Yeah, I said it. Too much information? But it's true! Ever seen those Japan flags also called white pants wearing unfortunate souls? You wish you hadn't.
Finally I accepted my fate and braced my womanhood with bitter and embarrassing feelings. Suddenly playing basket ball wasn't so fun and I graved for the suffering to end and get home. My mom took the news better than me, probably just thinking "holy shit, my youngest kid is old enough to have babies" or something.
If I then would have known how my body would handle periods in the future, I most likely would had a mental breakdown right then and there at the gym class.
Approximately two weeks before Code Red, I start feeling the effects of being a glorious woman. My mind decides that it's time to fuck everything up and turns me into a raging moodswinging monster.
I get highly depressed, I scream and cry for no reason and my gaming rage goes over the top. I can't explain exactly how my mind works then, but it sure is straight from your worst nightmares. And I swear, it gets worse and worse by the years.
A week before Code Red I start to get cramps and a few days in a full bodied pain all over my body. My legs and back aches and I start to swollen up. It's not too bad comparing what I'm about to embark, but it's no dance in rose pedals. It also causes needless panicking "oh shit, oh shit, it's almost time, any day now".
And when it's time, it's no fucking around.
The pain is unbelievable. In 10 minutes from the start the pain is simply too much to bear. My hands shake and I'm feverish. I can't eat but I want to eat everything. The only thing that helps is massive amount of painkillers and that is how I survive the first two days. It's the peak of my personal hell that I dread to my very core.
My dream would be to spend those days at home, in my bed, covered with blankets and someone petting my head saying "there, there". Also bringing me food and goodies. But no, there's no other options but to get up and go to work/school and live normally.
My strategy surprisingly often is to get so drunk that I forget I'm in pain. Clever, huh?
Guys have NO idea how horrible it can be and I swear, if I hear whining about how someone must have "that time of the month" or any other kind of jokes towards PMS-crazing monsters, I rip someones throat out. Oh the irony, eh?
But hey, only 30-40 years to go.. Yay me.
P.S. Next summer I shall look like I did in the picture above. LET'S START WEIGHT LOSS BLOGGING!
P.P.S. The one good thing about periods is knowing you're not pregnant!