Readers, I’m warning you, this post has some themes that might make some men uncomfortable, no, I’m not talking about blood spewing from my crotchial region (dudes can handle that, I think), but the dreaded time frame before the blood spewing commences…That’s right, I’m talking about PMS. The phenomena that can turn even the most lovely of women become something not unlike a creature that might be found in the bowels of hell.

I don’t know if I would be considered one of the most lovely of women, I’m outspoken and unapologetic, even when I’m not nearing my period, but for whatever reason, I become one of those beasts, on steroids. Here’s the backstory, the low-down and the hoe-down on my ascent to womanhood, or maybe it’s better described as the descent into hell.

Since my early childhood, I’ve been called “wise beyond my years,” and I always appreciated that I was ahead of my peers, both emotionally and intellectually. I even enjoyed my maturity when I began to grow those little boobie buds (see my maturity level) in fourth grade. I was the envy of the other girls, I had tits so I had the power. Over the summer of transition from fifth grade to sixth, following family tradition, I started my period. I was ten years old and the novelty of “womanhood” quickly wore off when the discomfort of pads and pain of cramps arrived to spoil my summer. I was still the envy of the other girls, for getting my period before anyone else in our class, but that was no longer consolation. This sucked. In 8th grade, while most girls were just starting to get their periods, I’d had mine for two years and C cups to boot.

During 7th and 8th grades, I experienced worsening PMS. Screaming, crying, horrible mood swings and a sharp tongue, it sounds like every other teenaged girl, right? Not quite, I was only like this during a week or two out of the month, before my period. It quickly became apparent to my mother that I probably had Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, just like she once had. We saw a doctor about it, and she put me on hormonal birth control (HBC). I stayed on birth control from age 13 to 17, before stopping a month ago. I realized that the weight I gained in that time may have been caused by the HBC and so now I’m not taking it, to see what changes.

And oh boy, how it’s changed! I hate the way I feel. I had my period at the beginning of this month and by the 12th I was feeling the storm of PMS coming on. Now, it’s a full fledged shit storm over here. I’m crying, I’m SO irritable, I’m lashing out and hurting people’s feelings, I can’t edit what I say, and I can’t control my emotions at all. I’m having HORRIFIC road rage, I scream in the car, and I flip numerous people off every trip. I’m a recluse, partly because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and also because I’m infuriated by everything anyone says or does.

I want to change but I honestly don’t want to go back on the HBC. There’s a couple of alternatives to birth control, and they work. I’d be more than happy to take valium whenever I feel the PMDD making me want to burst into flames, if only it didn’t make me sleep. There’s one alternative, but it’s a tad illegal (unless it’s for medicinal use, and that’s only in some states) and well, I’m a good girl. ;) Anyone have experiences from the trenches of PMS-warfare to share?