I am not a steel wall. Things do not bounce off of me like a tennis ball, although sometimes I wish they would. The other day, someone yelled "you're ugly!" out a car window at me, and it hurt. Even though I knew it was random, even though they were assholes and would have done it to anyone, even though it was raining and I was wearing a hood so they couldn't see my face, it still turned me into a quivering idiot. The rain fell harder, the traffic seemed noisier, the rampant curl on my head seemed even more rampant. I want so desperately to be able to turn the other cheek and forget, but I can't. This is the way I am. You may laugh at me and call me weak. Well, so be it. I am not weak. I feel things, that's all. If this writeup gets voted down, I admit, it will hurt me more than it should, even though I try really hard not to pay attention to voting and concentrate on writing what's real. I am being truthful, not looking for pity. This is why I cry. This is why, sometimes, I fell puny and small.

I'm sick of all this "who cares what other people think" bullshit. I cannot be blind to others. Yes, I am proud of who I am. Yes, I love the person I've become. And yes, it hurts me when other people disagree.

Monthly. Like clockwork. One day. Every single month. I hate it. It's embarrassing. I can't do anything about it. It is what it is. I try to hide away, because I don't want tears seen publicly. Those that know, give me my privacy. Those that don't understand, try to get in my face. Not a good idea.

I almost bit my boss's head off the other day. He screwed up my paycheck. Well, actually, he tried to do some creative adjusting so he wouldn't have to pay me three hours overtime. I was not happy about it. He didn't discuss it with me prior. He was messing with my pay. Single mom here. Trying to hold it all together and keep two kids and college and food on the table and gas in the cars and cars running. Don't mess with time.

It was not the fact my pay was shorted. Normally I would have just gone up to him and said..."hey, what's up with this? Are we changing something you forgot to tell me about?" Had this been the day before or the day after, it would have been no big deal. It was on that day. The day I have barely contained control over rampant emotions. I went to my coworker who I reported to temporarily before he came in and asked her to look into my time and see what he did. It wasn't making sense to me.

My boss made it worse by calling, later. He was trying to explain his creative accounting to me and I wasn't buying it. I couldn't see it logically. I told him I would talk to him the next day about it, he insisted right then. My eyes are welling up, I can't get control of this thing. I am so embarrassed and angry and upset and completely unprofessional. He asks if I am OK and I say no. We'll talk tomorrow.

He comes to my office and gets in my face.

He tells me to tell him what I am really feeling and not be polite about it or hold anything back

I am a barely restrained she-banshee with a man in the room who will not go away

He does not get the hormonal PMS thing and wants to know about it. Wants to know why I'm so upset over such a little thing. Only it's not just a little thing. It's many little things, that all add up. And it's a hormonal cocktail that has run amuck.

I explain it as succinctly as I can and tell him to leave me alone. seriously. not joking.

So he goes


and I burst into a thousand tears after I lock my door, and then I regain control, and continue with my work, uninterrupted


In my life, Premenstrual Syndrome is a very real and present shadow just waiting to take over. It's not pretty. It's not a joke. It's not easy to deal with. In fact, it is exhausting to fight with yourself. Seriously. It wipes me out.

My ex used to say I was crazy, that I needed psychiatric help. I shouldn't be so emotional. You can imagine how well that went over.

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