Yesterday, I took part in teaching a class. I prepared what I would speak about, dressed up for the occasion, and delivered my presentation. I received excellent feedback and felt I was behaving quite professionally.
After the lunch break, everybody was sitting and waiting for class to resume. I sat down and, right in front of everyone, I fell right through the chair, landing on my ass. We all laughed, my cheeks reddened (the ones on my face!) and we continued on.
As I sat there, trying not to guffaw, I realised that this was a hilarious lesson on not taking myself too seriously. I’d had an emotional week and I’d been feeling tired and fed up. It all felt like hard work. But I was proud of myself for getting through it and doing my best. And then I fell, bum in the air, in front of a room full of people.
Last night, I drank a glass of wine with my mother, watched ridiculous YouTube clips with my sister, and smashed open a coconut like I used to as a child on Hallowe’en. I slept in my childhood bed and didn’t get up until almost midday, skipping an all-day workshop that I could have attended.
If yesterday’s incident has taught me anything, it’s that I need to lighten up, have fun and enjoy life for what it is, instead of attempting to control everything and be perfect.
The funny thing is that, even if I do wind up bum in the air in front of everyone, we can all laugh about it, and the show still goes on.
The last time I ventured to the pub was about three months ago with my then boyfriend in the Donegal Gaeltacht, where the most outrageous thing anyone did was speak English. The last time I got drunk was about six months ago with an old college friend, when we had Thai food with our wine and spent the following day blaming the takeaway for the annihilation of our insides (as you do). And I can’t even remember the last time I set foot inside a club. Does watching self-proclaimed guidos fist pump on Jersey Shore count?
And you know how when you haven’t done something in a while, you wonder if you could even remember how to do it? It’s part lack of energy after a recent flu; part rawness after a recent break-up; part fear- I think I’ve put on weight, I don’t have anything nice to wear, I don’t remember how to small-talk; part sense- memories of extreme exhaustion after a 7am finish, a night spent hugging the toilet bowl (it was a night on the tiles all right!), hangovers so bad you rue the day alcohol was discovered. Damn you, rotten fruit! And part downright laziness at the thought of having to choose an outfit, do the hair and makeup, and stand around in heels all night. Effort. I think I’ve developed a mental block.
But after three weekends in a row of calling over to my mam’s for chips and a two-hour sentence of The X Factor, where the most daring thing I did was drink tea after 11pm, I think it’s time I worked on my social life.
I’m told I need to get out there (code for showcase my talents- I have a large chest- in order to date around). But do I really want to find a man in a swirling sea (maybe I shouldn’t have had that last Cuba Libre) of checked shirts and shark-like smiles? It’s dangerous choosing a partner when you’re both sporting beer goggles (Why do they call them beer goggles anyway? Goggles help you see. They should be called beer shades. Because they blot out the light. But I digress. I do that when I try to avoid an issue.)
On the one hand, I’m not bothered with all the pretending that goes on on a night out… fake tan, false eyelashes, concealer… pretending that everything’s funny, pretending that this club doesn’t suck rear end, pretending that you can walk in those heels and that your feet aren’t burning… Plus, I don’t want to get so drunk that I lose the following day (or my mammy’s chips).
On the other hand, I miss dancing to the latest Rihanna number, making an effort with my appearance and being told it’s paid off by a random hottie (even if he is hauled outside by the bouncers three minutes later for being too drunk) and cackling at dirty jokes with a gaggle of mates.
I don’t have to drink too much (famous last words). My eyelashes and tan (or lack thereof- I didn’t have a sun holiday this year, okay?) will be real. And I might wear flats. Who’s with me?
You’re cranky and difficult, and if someone even looks at you funny, you burst into floods of tears. The X Factor‘s auditionees’ stories are “just so heartbreaking”. And your boyfriend/co-worker/boss/sibling/parent is wrecking your head. You take everything out of context and twist it so it’s clear to you that there’s a conspiracy against you and your kind. In between arguments and sulks, you inhale Galaxy bars and Hunky Dorys. You look in the mirror at your bloated belly and convince yourself that you must be pregnant even though the last guy to inspect your nether regions was the gynaecologist a year and a half ago. Your boobs hurt so damn much and as for the back pain… You’re just about to check yourself in to a mental institution before you kill someone, ruin all your dearest relationships, go up a number of dress sizes, and fly into a fury not too dissimilar from Nicolas Cage in most of his movies when you take a look at your calendar and it all makes sense. You’re pre-menstrual.
Follow these simple steps as you ride the rough terrain of pre-menstrual syndrome (it’s called a “syndrome” so this is a serious matter):
1) See it for what it is
You may be baffled and terrified by your mood swings but recognise that there’s a reason for them. Your hormones are all over the place at the moment. So, give yourself permission to shed some tears over the latest evictee on Project Runway and to let go completely as you throw a tantrum over dropping your fork. Get it out. Treat yourself like a bold child. Allow yourself to scream and wail. You’ll tire out eventually.
2) Get on with it
Some medical professionals argue that PMS is a socially constructed disorder. If they knew what was good for them, they probably didn’t drop that bombshell when there were any pre-menstrual women around. As real (and horrible) as it is, don’t allow it to take over your life for a whole week every single month. It’s there and it’s awful but you know why you’re feeling this way. However, the more you focus on it, the bigger it’ll become. So, just get on with things.
3) Exercise
Gentle exercise will help with the mood and with the cramps. Take a long walk by the river. Go for a jog. Get down the gym. Yoga/dancing/martial arts also work a treat. And the activity will take your mind off of the horror of THE SYNDROME.
4) Natural remedies
My mother swears by Evening Primrose to keep her body in balance. It helps with breast tenderness, cramps and dips in mood. Vitamin B6 and Magnesium are also beneficial.
5) Don’t make any important decisions
When I was a teenager and not yet used to the onslaught of this crazy syndrome, I wrote in large letters on numerous pages of my diary: “Sharon is not here at the moment. Do not make any important decisions when you’re due your period.” You’re not thinking rationally at the moment so remind yourself of this when you’re considering breaking it off with your long-term boyfriend or handing in your notice at work. In Muslim law, one male witness is equivalent to two females. Apparently, this is partly due to the emotional disturbances, lack of concentration, memory loss, and slow-mindedness that women are said to experience once a month. This probably infuriates a lot of you but, just in case there’s the slightest grain of truth in it, why not hold off on putting your annoying dog on Buy & Sell and emigrating to Dubai?
6) Chill
It’ll all be over soon so just go with it and relax. Take a long soak in a bubble bath. Put on your favourite relaxing music, light some candles, and pour yourself a large glass of red. At least you’ll keep yourself out of trouble for a bit, plus you’ll be giving your nearest and dearest a well-deserved breather.
PMS is uncomfortable, infuriating and confusing but, luckily, it does come to an end. And the more in balance your body is, the less these symptoms will affect you. Good nutrition, exercise, relaxation, and natural remedies will help. Also, understanding why you’re feeling this way will make it more bearable. And don’t worry, you’re not the only one acting like a maniac.
For all you guys out there, don’t think you’re getting off lightly. You act like spoiled children every now and then too. Man flu, anyone? If Michael Douglas was a woman, his meltdown in Falling Down would probably be put down to PMS.
Being outdoors in nature, personal development, spirituality, teaching, yoga, friends & family, sunshine, good conversation, writing, a good cuppa, swimming in the sea, books, adventure, travel, learning, laughter, fun, good food, bear hugs…
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