Tag Archives: hormones

The doomaversary is looming

13 Jul


Apologies to all my male readers, but: DEAR GOD MY HORMONES ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.

I’m totally wiped out. I’m struggling to think of a time I’ve felt this tired. Between work going bananas, trying to keep up with all my classes and hobbies and running, and dealing with hormonal issues, I really need to hibernate for some of the summer. Instead I can’t get through a night’s sleep without being woken in serious amounts of pain. Pain, I can deal with. Pain is pain. What is unexpected is the tears.

I haven’t cried about my ex in weeks. This morning I did.

I know I can blame my hormones and I know that this will pass, but I also think it’s to do with the time of year. My therapist has told me before that grief remembers anniversaries, dates and events. It’s like they become hardwired into our system and we have a physical reaction to them.

One of my friends has mentioned the same phenomenon to me before. After she went through an (entirely different but entirely just as traumatic) experience, she found herself breaking down in uncontrollable tears at some point in the future. When she traced timings back she realised it was a year to the day since her life had turned upside down. Weird things, our minds and bodies.

Anyway, a year ago right now I was all excited to be going out to visit him in New York while he was working there.

Little did I know that I would go to New York, and then the following week he would come home and tell me he had never been in love with me.

The pizza of doomaversary is three weeks away.

I’m determined to make it a positive door-closing, moving-on, life-affirming kind of experience. So I’ve booked an appointment with my psychic for the day before, and I’ve invited friends over on the 3rd of August for – yup, it has to be – pizza.

But I’m holding out my paws and asking for help. I’ve felt so good and so relieved the past few weeks, I really hope that once the 3rd of August is out of the way I will feel better still. So I’m open to suggestions on things to do that will help make this a positive experience. Whether it’s nice things to do for myself, therapeutic things, or even things to buy myself because – hell – I deserve it, I want to hear from you.

The doomaversary is looming.

What can I do to make sure it’s an ending and a new beginning?


26 Mar

I’ve always been very anti putting hormones into your body.

I’ve mentioned on here before that I had a breast reduction when I was 21. Well, – wait – before I go on, I should really say a WARNING TO ALL MEN I AM ABOUT TO DISCUSS HORMONES, PERIODS, BOOBS and I’ll also moan about my ex.

So, yes yes. I had huge boobs. Ginormous. Disgusting. And, being 5ft 1, way too big for my little old self. So I had a breast reduction eleven years ago. Let’s be clear: this is not a decision that anyone takes lightly. It’s major surgery. But the best decision I’ve ever made.

That’s why – despite crazy period pains – I’ve always been scared to take contraceptives because I worried they would make my boobs bigger.

Well, last summer when the ex went to work in New York and became a stranger who didn’t give a sh** about me, he also started to complain about my PMS. I would have done anything for him. So, after loads of research, I decided to get the contraceptive implant to steady out my moods.

Which it did.

Not that my moods were ever that bad. And, to be honest, they were caused by feeling upset that my boyfriend didn’t have a nice thing to say to me anymore. I think it’s a little unfair to blame oestrogen entirely.

Of course, three weeks after I had the Nexplanon implant put into my arm, the ex came back from New York, ate half a pizza, and broke my heart. One of the few things I remember saying to him that night was, “Why did you let me get this f***ing thing in my arm?”

What with trying to get out of bed every morning and keep on breathing, I had quite a busy few months after the pizza of doom. I didn’t really think about getting the implant removed. I figured I had no periods. No side effects at all, really. And some lucky man would take advantage of the whole contraceptive situation at some point in time.

But my boobs were getting bigger.

And bigger.

Since January they have just seemed huge. And sore. So sore.

So tomorrow I am getting this bad boy removed.

It’s not like there’s any chance of me getting pregnant right now. And there’s nobody in my life to complain about a little PMS.

But I feel kind of sad. I like feeling this little stick in my arm.

In a very strange way, it reminds me of him. And even though he was a massive asshole about the whole thing, it feels like giving up another little bit of him.

But give it up I will.