I have PMS.
(I just lost all my male readership. Later boys!)
This means that my patience for things is at negative twenty. Generally speaking, my patience hovers around the 10- 20 range depending on my mood, how many hours I have slept and if I am currently experiencing low blood sugar. It’s not one of my best attributes, I admit it.
I can’t say I am of a rational mind when my hormones are pulsing through my body, partying like they are on Girls Gone Wild. Everything is heightened. More intense. More . . . annoying. Yes. EVERYTHING ANNOYS ME TO THE NTH DEGREE.
You understand, right? It’s not me. It’s my hormones.
Yesterday I whipped out the tough love on multiple people- suspecting and unsuspecting. I couldn’t help myself. I just didn’t have it in me to tip toe around people’s bullshit. I couldn’t take anyone telling me their stories which were just self-fulfilling prophecies in the making. I could not just KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT if someone was trying to lie to themselves, belittle themselves, or not accept the consequences of their own behavior.
It was not a good day to try to pull one over on me. I would call you on it and it probably would not be pretty.
But I am not apologizing for it. And even though I probably came on stronger than I would on a non-PMS day, it’s still fundamentally how I am. I am very frank. I do not bullshit. I will call you on your lack of authenticity. I will ask you why and how and what for. Because I want to know. Because I care. Because. . . I have seriously high expectations for myself and unfortunately, hold those I love to similar standards. I realize this is not the best approach and not entirely fair. This quality of mine is both admired and loathed. By me. Probably by all my loved ones.
I’m really, really, really trying to work on not being so strict with my rules of conduct, my (too) high expectations, my judgmentalness- for myself and for other people. I just don’t know how to toe the line. I don’t know how to care and not CARE SO MUCH I BUTT IN. I talk about this “problem” a lot in therapy. How I know some of the ways that I am don’t really work for me and yet, when I try to stop being that way, I no longer feel like myself. Then I panic and feel like a piece of shit.
It is not awesome.
I can tell you one thing though: trying to figure this all out during PMS week is ill-advised. I think I will save the personal growth musings for another week.