Menstrual Anxiety
As a teenager, I considered myself a lucky uterus owner. My cycles were regular and my period was so painless, most of the time I wouldn’t even realize it started until the embarrassment of a blood splash would appear on my clothes. I don’t know if that’s part of the luck, but I still was quite peaceful with it.
I remember one of my classmates who would have to go to the emergency room every month because of how painful her period was. I also remember praying that this never happens to me. But we all know prayer can sometimes backfire. I guess that’s what you get when you lack empathy as a teenager and only hope for the best for your own selfish self.
I was bombarded by the opposite outcome of my wishes when my early 20s rolled in. My cycle went from being a regular 28 days to sometimes 45 days. My period stopped showing up every month at the same time, as I would expect it, and instead had a mind of her own and would show up when least expected. I remember being terrified I was pregnant, even when I didn’t have sex. That’s early-adulthood brain for ya!
Things started to get worse at the age of 25. My PMS flared up and every month became hell. Tender breasts, bloating, and abdominal pain to the point of collapsing. I would find myself crying on the floor of my bathroom or bedroom at least five times the week leading up to my period. I would love to find the words to describe the excruciating pain I would feel every month - after all, I like to consider myself an aspiring writer -, but there are no words.
My old therapist equated this to my high levels of anxiety. She pointed out how with age, I get more anxious. Lovely. Therefore, with age, you guessed it, comes more menstrual pain. And then of course, you have to point out the obvious. For an anxious mind, a late period and/or new waves of bizarre pain obviously equate to the worst case scenarios: serious illness or death. Or, you know, for the fun of it, both.
Which leads me to this: how can I break the vicious cycle? Studies show that the more you stress, the worse your cycle gets. But the worst my cycle gets, the more stressed out and anxious I am. So what now?
Well, now… I write this to you on a day where I’m dealing with these feelings, with the pain of having a uterus that shares the same vessel as an anxious mind. Hell, I have anxiety just writing about this.
I had hoped to find solace and any type of ease to these symptoms when I joined a gym last month and became consistent with working out. I finally found my rhythm and started to feel the benefits of this routine. So I assumed that my cycle would follow along. Needless to say, I was sadly mistaken. I have been trying for the past couple of days to gather my energy to do what I think will ease this pain, going to the gym and moving my body, but I can’t. I simply cannot. My body prohibits it with every fiber of its being. Lethargy is my best friend and she lies with me 24 hours a day. She keeps me from even showering and imprisons me in solitude and insists I share her misery.
I realize how ugly all of this sounds, but this is the reality. This is the reality of a uterus living on the first floor while the anxious mind keeps an eye on it from the balcony of the seventh floor. I’m in between - I like to think I’m on the fourth floor perhaps- trying to mend their relationship, going up and down sharing casseroles so that maybe just maybe, one day they will get together in my house and put their issues aside for a nice dinner party where I can finally breathe.