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Let me Paint a Word Picture....

I'm sitting on my unmade bed. Pillows are intermingling with dirty clothes, because my laundry hamper is filled with the clean clothes that I cannot bring myself to pack away. My usually flawless rotational system of 'wash/pack-away/repeat' is beginning to crumble.

I am wearing maternity pants and a baggy t-shirt, which is a step up from the tracksuit pants and baggy t-shirt I was wearing 15 minutes ago. I only changed, because of an epic lunchtime-spill. I used this spill as motivation to have a shower…. at 1 o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.

There is definitely a problem here.

I am not depressed.

I am not lazy.

I am riding the Hormone Express and it is the absolute worst!

Once a month, I look in the mirror, and I do not recognise the woman staring back at me. After moments of completely irrational self-loathing, I realise that it’s ‘that time of the month.’ In the minutes before that realisation, I am the fattest, blotchiest, most heinous excuse of a human-being on the face of the earth. In the minutes after, I am still all of those things, but I am slightly comforted by the fact that my perception is clouded by hormones.

My ability to complete any of my usual tasks – basic life stuff – becomes as likely as a unicorn flying out of my daughter’s butt! The house slips into chaos. And I just can’t make myself care.

There is a fly in my home. I am currently harbouring the worst kind of animosity towards this thing. It is mocking me with its erratic flight pattern and I want to murder him and his entire blood line. I realise this is not normal, but it feels good to hate something other than myself.

This feeling really only lasts about 2 and a half days, and then I am rewarded with my period! 4 to 5 days of lethargy, coupled with being bloated and feeling dirty!

Isn’t life awesome?!

Woman really are the most amazing entities in the known universe. We literally give life. I've given life twice. I held my perfect little humans in my arms, after having held them within me for the better part of 2 years. We are incubators. We are nutritionally sound sources of food. We are the lighthouses, guiding our children to safety for the rest of our days.

We are also daughters, sisters, partners, friends, artists, business owners, nurses, chefs, activists, humanitarians, sporting stars and anything else we want to be, because we are basically goddesses, breathing and living among you.

But once a month, we are a little less than we’d like.

And it really sucks.

I used to be one of those girls who claimed to be unaffected by ‘that time of the month.’ I could feel the change in me for sure, but it was subtle enough, that I could ride it out, without wanting to murder any insects.

Pregnancy changed all that.

I am still able to identify when it’s time to hand the reigns over to my oestrogen levels, but what the hell did self-awareness ever do for anyone anyway!

I just want to hang out on my unmade bed and eat a packet of Tim Tams. I already feel terrible, so why not capitalise on this wave of negativity….

The truth is, the world is made up of yin and yang. We need a little negativity to counter all the awesome. So, pass me the chocolate-coated goodies and let me lean into this thing….

I can clean my house tomorrow.


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