Thirty Five

Whenever my period draws near,

I have a new craving for something. The last identifiable unique monthly craving was snow pea chips, the next was wasabi peas, then the next month was Kettle Chips. My last one was tortilla chips and weak salsa. Today, it was a bowl of Apple Jacks + milk. I just finished my second bowl, and I’m satisfied. Burp.

When I’m on my period, I’m useless. I can’t do anything. My mom agreed to move our visit to my grandma’s in case my period comes next Wednesday like it is scheduled to. On that day, I would just stay home in comfy clothes, drink hot tea, and read a book until I sleep. Then I’d wake up, shower, eat with my family, and then go back to sleep. Yea, my first 24 hours of period is no different from me being sick.

By day two, I’d be over myself and get on with my day. It doesn’t mean I’d go out, but at least I wouldn’t be sleeping, eating, and sleeping again. I’d at least do homework, clean up my mess from yesterday, and plan something for the next few, lighter days. Then on day three, I’d freak out about how much weight I gained and try not to eat and maybe comfort my guilt with some gentle, flimsy yoga. And finally, Day 4. It’s like, the Friday of 4-day periods. I can’t party to hard yet, but at least I can go out and do things without wanting to sit cross legged on a sidewalk and throw a tantrum, screaming “No! No! No! No!” like a child (that’d be Day One).

I’m sharing this, because to be honest, it’s the only thing I could think about just now after my bowl of Apple Jacks. Also, I haven’t posted in a while, and I don’t want this blog to go dead. Posting has helped me cope even though many posts seemed scary and morbid and really boring, and for the most depressing posts, I’ve noticed they’ve been monthly and related to my time of the month. Sigh. Even my grandpa, who was a doctor, said that having periods is one of the curses of being a woman. I do curse more frequently on my period. This is the calm before the storm next week.

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