Butterfly Cauldron

I had another dream last night. Amazing, in the little bit of time I managed to sleep, even. In this one, I was Veronica Mars and was making out with Logan. Don't know why, just was. There was some case we had to solve, but mostly, the dream was about the making out. And of course, I knew it was a dream, because if I was V, I'd totally be making out with Eli and/or Mac. Logan Smogan!

Ahem. Reminds me, V comes on tonight. Must get my Mac fix.

Anyway, I've been thinking about why I've been so crabby lately. It's not a mystery, really. I had to go off my meds for about two weeks because I ran out and didn't have the money to get a refill. Then, when I got a the money, my new frigging insurance wouldn't pay for it! Because the Cymbalta isn't on their formulary. So, I had to get my old doctor to call in and wrangle with them for a bit, but she got them to approve it. So, I'm back on it again but that little time off was enough for a flare up to settle in and it doesn't seem to want to go anywhere. Then, I caught a cold. So, I have a cold, my shoulders and hands are aching and then -- glorious PMS. Which means my back, abs and ankles are aching too. Blah. And on top of that, I get hit with insomnia. It's like....my hormones are trying to kill me. They are. Sometimes, at night, I think I can hear them whispering together, conspiring. Bastard things.

So, I'm going to ask the new doctor about putting me on the damned pill when I go in next month. This new pill, Yaz, is supposed to be good for PMDD (Which is really what I have, but the Cymbalta knocks it back down to regular PMS), as well as birth control and it's good for moderate acne. Which I've got, because ya know, at 32, it's good to look like a teenager. Grr.

So, here's the thing -- when I've got PMS, I hate my body. Not only for the physical pain -- that I can actually deal with, but for in an emotional way. Seriously, when I'm pre-bleed I just generally dislike my body. I'll look at myself and think "Yuck. Who'd want to fuck that?" And I know, when I start thinking that way, what it means. It's really the only time I think that way about myself. I'm also retaining water like a madwoman, so my clothing is really not fitting right. Hell, even my shoes don't feel right.

And I know most women feel something like that, but I'm wondering if they get it to the degree I do. I've always felt like this. I don't even have to see myself, I'll just start thinking how awful I look. How oily and bloated and desparetely unattractive I am. Which I don't geniunely believe, but those thoughts just keep coming. I change clothes a dozen times, because nothing looks decent to me. My hair feels brittle and lifeless, my skin is in revolt, even my fucking teeth hurt! I feel like a hulking mass of blobby-ickyness. Like a cave troll. It's really nasty.

And then, my period starts and I feel like myself again. Also, when my period starts, I lose my appetite. I'm totally not hungry. Which is good, because the week before I cannot stop eating. *sigh*

I love being a woman. I really do, but sometimes I wanna ask the Universe just why I have to go through this. I mean, I do not intent to ever have children, so really, it's kinda mean to make me deal with this every month when there will be no pay off. I want a doctor to invent a pill that allows you to shut down your reproductive system until and unless you want to have a baby. That way, no periods unless you're trying to concieve. It would be amazing.

I have other posts I want to write. At work, I come up with all sorts of things I want to write and say, but when I get home, I'm too damned tired. (Which is probably because, oh wait, I'm not sleeping!)

I want to do another abortion post -- specially since some nutter forced-birther has linked to me thanks to the Blog for Choice post. I will, I promise. Soon as I get some sleep.