Saturday, November 07, 2009

Oh, please, bring me some cramps....

crazed, angry lunaticToo much.
Too much anger.
Too much sadness.
Too much yelling.
Too much crying.

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I'm enduring a PMS I've never known this month. It started late last night when I struggled with LMX not wanting to go to sleep. I was fine for the first couple hours, but the third hour was handled by a woman I don't like. She's impatient and intolerant. She's barely controllable. Thankfully, she's capable of knowing her limits and walking away. She doesn't think about hurting anyone, but she gets frustrated, and then she screams.

After yelling at my tired baby to SHUT UP because he was crying and screaming as I attempted to put a clean diaper on him, I left the room. I left him laying half undressed, pants pulled down but still on, undiapered and unsettled on one couch with NS on another couch, and I walked out of the room. I sat on the stairs just outside the door and began weeping.

How dare I get so upset with my child for being tired!

Once I heard his crying subside, I moved myself up the stairs to get some water and brush my teeth. I really needed to take a shower; I hadn't taken one since Tuesday, and I felt itchy and icky, but I didn't want to shower at 12:30 a.m. I continued my mild sobbing as I got my water and slowly calmed during the two-minute cleaning from the Sonicare. I walked back into the room to find LMX sleeping soundly on NS's chest. I stayed up for another hour or so watching Office reruns and reading blogs. I thought the mood had passed.

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Today has been a day like no other. Pissed off and sullen for no reason. It wasn't too overwhelming until LMX woke up from his nap...too soon and while M and J were trying to build a fort with blankets and chairs two feet away. Considering I hadn't yet gotten the chance to shower, and NS was about to head to the store, I ferociously assembled the boys' fort and stormed up the stairs with LMX under my arm. It was silent upstairs. The fury began to cloud my vision. I flew to the bedroom, hoping the car would still be there as I approached the window.

Please still be here. Please take this child with you. Please give me a chance to bathe!

I stared out the window. I stared at the empty driveway. My eyes filled with tears. I set LMX on the bed, and I retreated to the bathroom. To cry and whimper and sob and wail. This is not me. What is wrong with me? Why is this so hard today? God, I'd welcome cramps and backache and headache with a party right now. I'd give anything not to deal with this type of PMS. I don't know how to handle this PMS.

I went to the bedroom and laid down next to my youngest boy. I kissed his forehead and apologized for being so crazy. I laid there with him for several minutes, trying to relax and regain my sense of composure in this silent cuddle with my baby. Once I realized he wasn't going to be drifting off to sleep, we returned to the basement.

As soon as I heard NS come through the door, I scrambled up the stairs. I began gathering clothes for after my shower. Oh, my shower! It was so close. I could almost imagine the water washing over my hair and face, washing away the itchiness and ickiness, washing out my tear-filled moodiness.

Then, the yelling and screaming and crying crept up the steps. OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE CHILDREN DOING? WHY CAN'T I JUST TAKE A SHOWER?!? I JUST WANT A FUCKING SHOWER!!

NS realized he had not returned to a pleasant, happy place and took charge downstairs while I sulked away to the bathroom and into the shower, sobbing once again at how frustrated I'd become with my family without good reason and how little control I seemed to have over my emotions. A few minutes of balling while curled in a wet ball, and I was finally able to finish my showering.

LMX and I set off to the grocery store. I was dismayed to find my car was very low on gas but figured NS probably just didn't remember my PIN to be able to get the gas for me. I resigned to getting over my pity party and getting the gas on my way home from grocery shopping.

Food shopping goes smoothly. I'm at the register, the cashier is nearly finished scanning my purchases, and I open my wallet to retrieve my card. I examine the slot a few seconds. It's empty. There is no card there to pay for this food. I glance at the not yet totaled total...nope, can't pawn this shopping trip off onto another form of payment. I believe the words left my mouth in a muffled murmur. I can't pay for this.

I spoke again, trying to be audible. My face must have given me away. I knew I was nearing tears again. The cashier asked me where my card was. I said it was with my husband. She asked where he was. I said he was at home. She asked where home was, how far it was. I said it was about 6 miles away. She said it was going to be fine, they'd wait for me.

I stood in the parking lot next to my car for a minute, calling NS in an unnecessary panic. No answer. I get LMX back in the car. I call NS again. No answer. I get in the car. I continue calling the entire drive back home. I send a text message pleading with him to just tell me he has my card with him. I wasn't sure if I just didn't see it in my car or if he had it or if it had been left at the store he went to. I just wanted him to tell me that my trip home with a gas gauge reading less than zero miles to empty wouldn't be fruitless. I was angry during that drive.

NS had my card. I nearly began crying as he handed it to me. He apologized, seeming to know that it wasn't really anything he had done that was forming those tears. I couldn't even speak other than to state I had no gas and over a $100 of groceries waiting for me; I rushed back to the car as fast as I could.

I quickly got some gas to allow me to make it until tomorrow. I may have been crying at the pump. I don't even remember if the tears actually fell or if I managed to keep them from breaking the dam.

As I walked through the exit doors to retrieve my groceries, the employees were beginning to wonder where I was. It had been just about half an hour since I'd left. They were all rung up, ready for payment. I paid, and the bags were brought to my car.

The tears flowed freely now...all the way home.

NS gave me a warm, reassuring hug when I walked back through the door. I cried a little more, letting him hold me and soothe my bad day.

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The today portion of that recap was approximately four hours of my day. Not eight or ten. Four. Just four hours. I am not used to PMS like this, y'all. I'm used to cramps and bloating and cravings and headaches and exhaustion. This anger and sadness pendulum swing is new to me. I am failing with coping with this. I've done a lot of apologizing to my loved ones today, and beyond that, I have no idea how to handle it. Oh, please, gods of the November menses, please just give me some cramps...I need relief from the crazy.

5 comments:

Cagey (Kelli Oliver George) said...

Ah, I am sorry to read this. Was just checking in and saw this.

I have had days like this. Sigh. Wish I had solutions. A shower seems like a good start, until the screaming kids enter into the equation, eh? Hang in there.

Celebrate Woo-Woo said...

Today was tremendously better. Hell, last night by the time I wrote the post I was better.

Jonathan said...

I'm surprised a certain Mr didn't notice you were having a shitty day, and get the groceries for you.

I would have.

Celebrate Woo-Woo said...

Jonathan, he noticed, but we needed groceries and we also needed someone to continue putting our living space back together. I'd opt for groceries every time in that scenario;>

NoRegrets said...

oh boy... that's ... um... a strong husband!!!