Posted by: Judy | June 15, 2017


I hadn’t planned to write this. There are details in life I don’t like sharing. Frankly, I don’t like too much information, the dreaded TMI. So why am I doing it anyway? Sometimes, others need to know they aren’t the only ones, and yet this is the kind of thing polite society doesn’t discuss… then again, polite society has pretty much been tossed to the wayside, sadly.

Like all women, I have two X chromosomes. Most of the time, I’m perfectly fine with that. I am what I am.

Then there are days… and I end up nattering at God, and not particularly politely. He’s used to this, but I would really like to do better. As the decades have gone by, I’ve improved. However, the hormones sometimes send me into a tailspin. Not impressed. Mind over matter doesn’t work.

I past the half century mark. It’s been eight months since the last hormonal flare up, so to speak… yes, still attempting to be polite.

On Tuesday, the cramps I hadn’t had to deal with for eight months made an appearance. Not to mention it hasn’t gone on this long since last July! I took some ibuprofen. Always helpful. Little did I know that Wednesday would be worse. The problem is that if I take pain medication more than once every few weeks, I end up with a rebound headache, sometimes migraine quality. Annoying.

I hate the brainless fuzzy thinking. I hate being easily overwhelmed by a single question or even a comment I can’t process. I hate not being able to sit comfortably. I hate feeling like my middle is in vice-grip pliers. I hate feeling so dopey I can’t even read a blog post, let alone a book, or watch television. I hate that I don’t have two brain cells to rub together in order to write or accomplish anything meaningful. I hate how the thought of food is revolting even as I know I’m hungry and need to eat.

I really hate that I was free of the “insanity” for eight months and then BAM! Surprise! *pfft*

I grumble at God, but now I can’t simply yell at Him about the unfairness. I’m reminded I’m not yet as Job. I have to admit I prefer cramps to boils, any day of the week. Fine. (Yeah, that dreaded female version of fine that means anything but fine. And for the record, this is the only time I use it.)

What’s hardest for me? This time of the month has always been difficult. When I was younger I comforted myself by saying that it was evidence I could have children so it was a blessing. Well, I can’t have children. I’m not feeling blessed. I’m grieving. I don’t like it. I can’t change the past. I’m feeling picked on, which is really kind of stupid since this is simply how my body works. Welcome to Life.

Then I natter at God that He’s the One who created this body. He has control over everything, including what my miserably body does. Gentle nudging reminds me that this is the only way I slow down without feeling guilty. I think this time, more importantly, this gives me an opportunity to practice what I preach: Give the battle to God and praise God in the storm. I still fall on my face, but I pick myself up and I keep taking the next step, no matter how many times I fall. I still trust God. I still take my problems to Him. I still seek His comfort.

I’m giving the battle to God and praising Him in the storm.

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