How did I get here? I ask myself. How did I become so irrational and emotional? I don’t have an answer.
All I know is that it’s coming. With precise certainty and mathematically calculated to the nanosecond…it’s coming. And I have no where to hide.
I felt it this morning. Around 8:27 am. It was so soft and mild. Almost undetectable. But I felt it. And instantly I knew that it was coming.
I began this process that’s become such an uncomfortable routine in my life. I kept a close eye on the clock. Despite everything that will happen to me, I want to maintain some control.
I remained calm. I told myself not to worry. It’s not THAT bad.
I felt it again around 12:30 pm. I thought to myself: “The pace is slow! What’s up with that? Am I losing my edge, my mojo?” Sure enough, the speed picked up.
Oddly enough, I became very productive at work. I accomplished a lot more than I thought I would. I guess the sensation and the fear makes me hyperactive.
After dinner, there was no escaping it!
I’m not sure if it’s the excrutiating pain that scares me this much or the anticipation of what is to come! I try to block the memories of visits to emergency rooms and hours spent in the bathroom puking from the throbbing ache.
I can’t do anything tonight. I’m a handicap. I can’t join x and y at the movies and I’m screening z’s calls. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Perhpas my mother…but I hate to disturbe her with my tears and there’s not much she can do to help me now.
All I can do is sit here for a few more minutes, write this and then try to convince myself not to think about what it would feel like if I threw myself out the window or wish for roozeh ghiaamat. My poor lover doesn’t know what to do either. Between the two of us, in this state, I hate him.
But what I hate most is menstruating. Hot damn, I wish I were a man.
