Monday, 28 April 2014

Day 85, WhoreMoans

Endo 365

WhoreMoans AKA Crappy hormones (Also an oxymoron as they are always crappy, oh gosh so punny)

Yep- this blog has been long overdue.

And one of the reasons for this is because, well, I haven't had any hormones. Or at least, I haven't had any for almost five years and so these last three months since my op where I have suddenly developed breasts and feelings has been a strange but rather exciting one.

Lemme expand: Having had my ovaries shut down since I was 14, I have escaped the typically dramatic, irrational and traumatic symptoms of being a teenage girl. GNrH irradiated my body gynaecologically of being anything other than a 90 year old which is kinda strange but no periods and no spots are a winning combination for anyone, even boys although the latter is only relevant.

One of the weirdest things about no longer being on my menopause is that suddenly I have these totally irrational and unprovoked diva tantrums and chaos erupts in the repressed annoying  female part of my brain. I am aware of myself getting snappy-dude about something that previously would have washed over me. And it is so annoying, I have to force myself to step outside of the situation and give myself a metaphorical slap in the face. I pride myself upon being low maintenance (yeah thats right- I said it) and just rolling with the flow of whatever. But there are now occasionally little devil voices getting me unnecessarily agro about stupid suff. And that is annoying.

Growing up I have always been an agony aunt to my friends and siblings which I love. Those people who commonly complain that people only come to them for advice when they need it shouldn't feel begrudging of that. Be proud that you are the person they feel they can turn to when they need reason, sense, a little love and maybe some fair truths, If you are this person, be proud. ANYWAY. Growing up, especially in the last 5 years, peers have always seeked my council and I would absolutely be able to empathise and advise to the best of my knowledge. However I would secretly question whether I was a sociopath as I was unaffected by the same worries and concerns.

I assumed this was because maybe I'm a little mature for my age or because I have a fair amount of life experience under my belt, or because I pretty much know who I am, especially for an 18 year old. But I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

The reason those matters didn't factor into my life was not because I am as cool as a cucumber, but because chemically, my brain wasn't wired in the same way. I was vaguely aware of this at the time but you only realise the difference things make afterwards.

I was not exempt from petty discourse but immune to thinking that way. The potential was within me, just repressed.

Serves me right for thinking I was low-maintenance eh?

Since my hormones have been switched back on, I am beginning to realise the difference it has made, but I quite like it. It is almost like I'm normal.


I am getting spots cyclically, becoming irrational, agro and worried without due reason, my boobs have grown (wahoo, maybe one day I will fill a AAAAA).

I can remember why I used to call them 'whoremones' now- because they're no fun and so anti sisterhood I can't even tell you.

I had a great ride being a rational autonomous human being, but I have now landed back into the female world of mayhem and madness, and its kind of nice to be back. Even if I do feel my thighs are a little too fat.

F.Y.I. These WhoreMoans have changed my views towards my own figure... I weight no more than I did before they were unleashed around my bloodstream, and my clothes fit exactly the same, however I feel in myself more insecure about my figure. I know objectively that this is not my body but these whoremoans. So its worth baring in mind that you aren't actually fat, or anything like how you feel in the slightest. Its those pesky anti-sisterhood whoremoans.

To those people who's heads are bitten off and made into BBQ meat- I apologise and we should brain storm about the business opportunities in my new ability to breathe fire. I believe it to be a family trait. I would appreciate it if you didn't sell me to the circus though.

On a serious note, (Sorry for lowering the tone) do not beat yourself up for how you are around a certain time of month. Never repress yourself, but bare in mind that it isn't you, you would never react like that, you have been hijacked by the anti-feminists pirates  'Whoremones'. So count to 3, deeeeeeeeep breaaaath and ask yourself whether your reaction is proportionate and whether you are actually cross. From a family where women have historically, without fail suffered from PMS (You can even look us up in the loony bin, we're famous- you go girls) I want to urge people to not be embarrassed, go to your doctor and get it sorted if it is a serious issue. My momma ended up having a full hysterectomy (literally removing the hysteria) to solve it. Very few women are as extreme as my matriarch though so do not fear. Try and be rational, be kind to yourself and be open.

Because of my personality, I do not think I will suffer to any extremes hormonally, thankfully. However there is no shame if you do, you haven't done anything to warrent it.

My hormones are a walk in the park compared to the rest of it, I just thought it was interesting and I would share the change with you, a lighter blog and a big of a giggle.

Learn from my mistake,  never underestimate women's WhoreMoans,

All my love to you crazy Moo's,


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