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To order your copy of The Lovely Knowing simply click on the book--copyright 2011 Mishi McCoy. All rights reserved. No part of this book or artwork may be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

I'm On My Period. Exclamation Point!

 I am a woman. I am an emotional creature. Inevitably, I have a more intense realization of this fact for three to five days out of every month. Those would be the days in which my period arrives. I have accepted it as a normal cycle for normal responses to what I feel is a normal pattern in mine and my husband’s life together. This is the period of time (pun intended) in which I earnestly need and desire for him to be a bit sympathetic to the plight of feminine affliction that he can only attempt to understand. So, here in lies the dilemma.

       With every cycle begins the vicious cycle of commentary and quandary between the two of us. His dialogue typically is as predictable as the day on which my period is certain to arrive. “Is something bothering you? Oh, yeah, it is about that time. Damn, that means we are not going to get to make love for a few days. Hey, you know, I am the horniest when you are on your period. How about a blow-job? I’m sorry that you feel bad. That must really suck. Everything is not as bad as you are making it out to be; it just seems worse than it is because you are on your period.”

       My dialogue is certainly as predictable, yet it has become an internal dialogue. I mean, after 96 cycles with the man I am spending my life with, why express myself repeatedly when he simply can not comprehend my reality? So, with my dull, aching headache, back and abdominal cramping, irritable moodiness, insomnia, and lethargic symptoms of severe equation, I say nothing. I simply take all my feelings and stuff them, as not to come across as the raging hormonal wild animal that I feel I embody. Just let it go, I tell myself. It’s part of the ebb and flow of life. This too shall pass and soon I will return to my normal self. I know this after 34 years of having a menstrual cycle.

       But, today was not like other days during my period. Today, I exploded. Today, I felt intense on every cellular level and internalizing my emotions didn’t offer itself as an option. I allowed myself to personify the veracity of natural grief my body experienced. After all, with every menstrual cycle, women feel the sorrow that comes when the body misses the opportunity to nourish the life of an unfertilized egg which could have been the bringing forth of a new life. Today, I expressed my internal rage of broad spectrum emotions accumulated through out the month. Today, I let it rip with hormonal fury. Today, I released the bitch within and damn, it felt great. It felt almost orgasmic.

       So, here’s what happened- My husband left our home on a personal mission to kindly tend to my needs during what felt like my most unpleasant day of misery. He offered to drive into town to lovingly purchase and deliver the items that would ease my stress: tampons, menstrual relief medication and chocolate. It should only take 40 minutes and then I would have what I needed to feel a bit of relief and allowance to be as close to my normally pleasant self as possible.

       An hour had passed by when he called to tell me that he had purchased my chocolate and menstrual relief medication. His next stop would be the post office to pick up his long anticipated delivery of a purchase he had made on E-bay, a beloved Journey decal and then he would purchase my tampons. I attempted to be understanding that he was taking longer that I expected, however, I was void of feminine products and had a blood immersed wash cloth folded uncomfortably against my vagina. I could tolerate that discomfort along with all the other unpleasant symptoms for a few more minutes. Be patient, I told myself with a grizzly tone. He will be home soon and I will regain a certain level of comfort and dignity.

       At last, an hour an a half later, he arrived with a smile on his face. He gleefully tossed my chocolate and medicine on the bed, and then proudly displayed his long awaited purchase. I forced a smile. “So, where are my tampons,” I asked. His smile turned into a puzzled void in which I needed no response. I growled, “You forgot my effing tampons? Isn’t that why you went to the store in the first place? How about you go get my tampons and I will just use your iron on decal between my legs to catch all the blood that is rapidly flowing from my freaking vagina!”

       I wanted to burst into tears, but I was too pissed off. I wouldn’t let him see me cry. I didn’t want to feel hurt and pitiful. I wanted to embrace my feelings of being angry, overlooked, and unimportant. I simply wanted him to feel that my need was as urgent and important as I felt it was. How did an iron decal suddenly take precedence over my desperate need for tampons? Was he clueless to my urgent need? It appeared that clueless may be the only justifiable reason. I did burst into tears as soon as I heard the front door shut behind him. I was in a frenzy of emotions. Premenopausal women can relate, I’m sure.

        My daughter was aware of all the shenanigans that had just transpired. The moment he shut the front door behind him, she appeared in the bathroom, where I was perched and sobbing on the toilet. She presented herself as the sympathetic angel of understanding that only another emotional creature experiencing female maladies could. “Here, Mom. Here is a pad until he gets back with your tampons. What a moron,” she exclaimed. “He’s a great husband, but men just don’t get it.” I responded with full throttled emotions, “That’s the problem! I wish all men could experience just one period in their lifetime and then they would get it. You know what though?  That isn’t ever going to happen, so we just have to deal with the fact!”

       And so the vicious cycle of cycles continue. Period and exclamation point!

       *As a footnote, I read this little emotional journal excerpt to my husband. We both laughed hysterically. He said he would try to be more empathetic during the days I experience my feminine cycles, although he only felt he could be sympathetic given the circumstances. After all, he is a man and will never experience the plight of the human feminine affliction I described.

       I am hopeful that today’s emotional charge has opened a liberating door for both of us to be more understanding of the fact that we both have challenges in lieu of natural physiological differences. We both also realize that communication is mandatory in helping one another understand each other’s differences and needs. We can respond accordingly and lovingly.

       He gave me his full blessings in submitting this for the public eye. Though it is an extremely candid excerpt, it is an honest and common missing link in communication between men and women. Perhaps, only Venus and Mars are able to truly relate, but I have high hopes for my husband and I, as well as all couples alike.
copyright 2015 Mishi McCoy. All rights reserved. No part of this article may be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

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