(cw: expletives, repeated mention of murder (non-graphic))
Honestly. I’ve been so fucking angry today. It’s 7 days before my period and my PMS is horrendous. That one week a cycle – like fucken clockwork – makes me vibrate like a Chihuahua filled with hatred. I’ll be sat on my sofa and then I’ll just stand up and go into a random room in my house and shout ‘FUCK OFF’. Honestly, it’s like I’m the main guy from Ratatouille but instead of a rat controlling my actions it’s ✨ UNSTABLE HORMONES ✨
Hate is a strong word. But. I hate every ounce of everything as if every person in the known universe was stood next to me mouth-breathing, heavily. I don’t like confrontation, but today I would irrationally square up to Anthony Joshua AND Tyson Fury with little forethought.
Murderous. Utterly murderous.
In active addiction I was anxious, irritable and suicidal; I medicated these feelings with alcohol and drugs to the point of blackout. I then awoke the next day to worse anxiety, worse irritability and greater suicidal desire, so I reached again for the sauce to numb these emotions. Repeated this.
I had no idea about my hormonal cycle, I just knew every few weeks I’d get my period and ruin some perfectly good underwear. If I remembered to, I’d log a day of it on some app on my phone and then carry on as before, repeat ad infinitum.
Now! Now! Now I’m sober (15 days back from a relapse, tyvm). I feel every fucken nuance in my mood. I feel my feelings and shit (in fact my last relapse BEGAN during my last PMS stint). Emotions! These things that I’ve buried so successfully for nearly 20 years. Hormonal or otherwise. They are returning and I’ve never experienced them or, if and when I have, I’ve ‘Supressed Don’t Stress’ with a healthy glug of ethanol.
Interlude: part of me wants to to defend my 15 days sobriety, imagining you’re thinking ‘hang on, only 15 days sober? You’re acting like it’s some big break through. I’ve gone longer than that and I don’t say I’m sober.’ Well bully for fucking you, Susan. There was a time I couldn’t go 6 hours so I’m very fucken pleased with my 15 days, thank you very much. My recovery is mine, and your commentary can go straight in the fucken bin. For anyone not thinking that, you’re awesome, love you, ignore this part.
So, emotions. Yeah. I’m getting all up in them.
AND I’M SO FUCKEN GRATEFUL. Okay body, you do your thang girl. You move, you be fluid. It’s all groovy. It’s a tough time, hun. We can get through it. We feeling the good and the bad now (not just end-of-the-world-bad 24/7 to be drowned in methylated spirits). It’s fine, I’ve got you. I’ll just not reply to emails on impulse and I’ll refer back to my ever increasing toolkit for ‘Managing My Emotions’. So long as I don’t reach for a drink. I haven’t had a suicidal thought since I last drank. My anxiety is still constant but much more manageable. I AM Grateful. Grateful. Grateful.
However, I can’t be certain, but I do think my mix of PMS with new recovery and a healthy dash of BPD is a recipe for ‘lemme-gouge-out-your-eyes-and-post-them-to-your-mum-innit’ levels of anger. I don’t know, you might get the same, and not have BPD. Honestly? I couldn’t give a monkey’s: I am angry and I want to murder every single fucken one o’ yas.
Also, this is my blog, and I can write and rage however I wish.
Still grateful though! Still mother-fucken grateful that I am having these feels and I don’t want to medicate with alcohol or drugs. For the first time ever, I don’t have the obsession to drink. Imma feel these feels, I’m not going to eat my bodyweight in food, I’m going to have another fucken bath, hit up an AA meeting and let my murderous hormones fly.
Please don’t ask me anything in the next week if you don’t want me to bite your head off. I don’t actually hate you, and you have been fucken warned.
Emotions are finally welcome here.