Every time I get my period, I do the, “Woohoo, I’m not pregnant!” dance.

It goes something like this:

For the first day in over a month or two, my vagina is not bleeding.

Not spotting, not period-ing, not anything.

AND I just started my new birth control. Some off brand shit called Tri-Sprintec? I don’t give a fuck, if it will just regulate my cycle. Please, oh please, oh please, just regulate all this crazy shit.

Now, I’m ready for celebratory cunnilingus. Just sayin’.

How this period has gone:

• I’ve eaten everything tasty in sight.
• Stayed up all night.
• Slept in all day.
• Have been immersed in nerdom: LOTR, HP, all of the nerdiness.
• Masturbated every night.
• Verbally stumbled all over myself when the cute guy at Publix asked me if I needed help out to my car with my groceries.
• Sent way more sexy pictures than is necessary to my lover.
• Had ALL OF THE FEELS on the phone with Stephanie last night.
• Also, all of the cramps all day today.

Monday, I cannot wait for you to deliver me these new birth control pills. An end to my bleeding vagina (period and the spotting beforehand) is very welcome. Because all I really want in my immediately future is, like, 5 hours solid of cunnilingus.

I am so happy that I’m switching to a new birth control.

I’ve been megasuperomglet’sbangnow horny all day, distracted and can’t do any single thing for more than an hour, gained three pounds in the past two months (though really that’s not a lot considering my actual weight), and I just saw a commercial that made me tear up. Not to mention, I’m still spotting like hell. It’s like I’m eternally stuck on the first day of my period. Except not eternally because it’ll go away for a day and I’ll get excited and then it’ll come back.

After my next period, I will switch from Loestrin to a bc with a higher amount of hormones. AND it’s a cheaper one (ortho tri-cyclen?). My gyno is hoping it’ll level everything out.

ME TOO.

Also, one final note on birth control, I really just want an IUD like Mirena or Paragard so badly…

So I woke up this morning in a pool of my own blood.

itscandidlycara:

Wait, let me back up.

Hi, my name is Cara and I’m a 21 year old woman. Every 28 days, give or take, I have a period. And it fucking sucks. Today, was one of those where I take from the 28 day cycle. I wasn’t due for another period for at least a week, but considering that my period is pretty much permanently irregular, I get to wake up a lot of mornings in a pool of my own blood. Hmm. Lovely.

I then proceed to dump my sheets, my underwear, and my pajamas in my laundry room in a tub filled with cold water, with the hopes that this time I haven’t ruined them permanently.

What next? Well, a shower of course! To wipe off the smell of rotting blood from my body! Squeaky clean and towel fresh I have about a two minute window before the volcano of blood begins to erupt again from my vagina.

What will it be today? A piece of chlorinated toilet paper cardboard with a string that I get to shove up my hole wherein the blood will sit and rot until the next time I can shove another piece of chlorinated cardboard up the same hole? Or, a plastic lined toilet paper diaper attached to my underwear that causes rug burn to my vaginal area when I walk? Well the later requires less coordination, and it is early, so I guess I’ll be sitting in a period diaper today. The best ever.

Of course, I could always just get birth control, and lessen this whole shit. But 1) I can’t afford it 2) I can’t ask my dad to pay for it because, guess what? Just like the men who run my government, my father correlates birth control with sexual promiscuity! Thus, sitting on my rotting blood, undergoing severe cramps that have on more than one occasion caused me to black out, it is! (Not that birth control is such a walk in the park either, our bodies have to learn to deal with the hormones and other chemicals and consequences that birth control entails.)

Then, I get to go to class, where I have to pretend that I am not a leaky faucet of blood and tissue. I get to sit in Calculus, and if heaven forbid, I need an additional pad, I have to be discrete about it, so as not to offend the men’s gentle sensibilities to the fact that I am the one dropping tissues and blood from my body through my vagina.  

I once asked a male to take me to the pharmacy so that I could pick up (GASP) pads, or as we like to call it “feminine products” (again, so as not to offend the gentlemen’s overly sensitive natures) and had him equate me talking about my period to him talking about his erections.

ARE

YOU

FUCKING

KIDDING

ME

No.

This is nothing like your fucking erection’s. I don’t derive any enjoyment from this. I can’t mentally control any ounce of this entire process. I can’t masturbate my problem away. My period does not end in orgasm.

It stays. For at least five days in my case. Draining blood out of my body. Causing me severe cramps, making me irritable -not because I’m uncomfortable (which mind you, would be reason enough) - but because my hormones are all over the place, bloating me up to two sizes larger than I normally am, I have to actively fight not to smell like a fish market, and on top of that, you want me to be hush-hush about this? Because it’s icky for you?

And this is not an attack on that one man, this is an attack on ALL MEN who on top of sitting on their throne of gender privilege want me to stay quiet and be content about the fact that five days out of every month I get to undergo this happiest of joys.

And then, these very same men have the audacity to get annoyed because we don’t want to listen to their bullshit complaining about traffic? Or whatever other meaningless story they happen to tell us while our bodies are actively fighting against us? Then we get to be the butt of their tired-ass jokes? Sorry, I am most certainly not sorry.

I repeat NO. I say women come out of the period closet and say, “You know what, this happens to me. Every. Fucking. Month. And it’s terrible. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY MORNING.” Because the truth is, if I live in a country where Viagra is covered by medical insurance, but birth control isn’t, I can no longer keep denying that I live in a country that is actively waging a war on women. And if I live in a country that is actively waging war on my sex, the least I am going to do is break patriarchal social propriety to inform anyone and everyone of the shit biological process I was BLESSED enough to be born into.

Hello, my name is Cara, I’m a 21 year old woman, and today I’m on my period. Let me fucking tell you about it.

CARA YOU BEAUTIFUL, INTELLIGENT WOMAN. 

Thank you for vocalizing this so wonderfully. :)

When your period is almost gone but not quite

Tonight I’m watching Crazy Stupid Love!

What can I say? I’m officially on a period-induced romantic comedy kick. :/

I spent half of tonight watching the Harry Potter special features on the fancy blu-ray disc I got. My mama sneezes (she’s got a cold) and I panic and get emotional that she’s gonna have pneumonia and die. My papa jumps at me and I want to cry even though he’s just being his normal self.

It’s a cry over everything period, apparently. Everything is emotional, everyone is out to get me, and I love everyone so goddamn much.

Really, before the birth control pills my period had leveled off. It had finally gotten to that manageable point where it only lasted 3 days and then had very few emotional side effects. If it weren’t so necessary now, what with me having sex and all, I’d quit the pills again.

~period stuffs~ Guys can scroll on by.

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I must be getting my period today or tomorrow.

All I can think about is food lol.

Not even hungry, just sitting here like, “Hmmm… Ice cream would be good… Or maybe McDonalds… No, Wendy’s sounds way better than McDonalds… And then I could get a frosty! But I want to try out some of those new places I got coupons for…”

On and on it goes, imagining all the flavors of things I want to eat, and I can tell you I am not a tiny bit hungry right now. See, that’s why women are curvier than men. We get our periods and eat a house.