Friday, October 23, 2009

The Monster Within

Once a month, I'll let you figure out the significance of that, there lives a monster in my body. It takes over all the space and then grabs a knife and tries to stab at the back of my left eye. This in turn makes my face go numb. Doesn't that monster know I don't enjoy the pain? I can't function. I can't clean.  I can't cook.  I don't really even want to interact with anyone. I just want to curl up on the couch with a blanket, a coke, some excedrin and close my eyes and shut out the rest of the world. I'm crabby and miserable and,  gosh darn it, that seems to be when my kids want to demand the most attention, and the one time a month that they want to be touchy feely. As I growl, "GET AWAY" (the monster also takes over all verbalization) I am plagued by my mom guilt. I try really, really, really hard to overcome the monster within. But they know...their dad tells them...and I just want to punch him in the face.


  1. Yep, totally understand. I don't know why we have been plagued by such horrid, disabling, horrors. I feel your pain, literally. Love the pic though, my son wants to be Mike for Halloween. Hang in there!

  2. I have to say, I'm very grateful that I don't get PMS. I'm just witchy all the time.

  3. I'm really sorry. I hope you feel better soon.

  4. Mine had started to knock me out for about 1 1/2 weeks out of the month. I was just sick! The doctor prescribed a mini pill (birth control in an incredibly mild dose). No side effects and now that one time a month doesn't affect my health. Hooray! Maybe something like that would work for you? I don't actually need birth control.

  5. I hear ya! I have a monster in the form of depression and debilitating cramps that come with PMS, plus the occasional migraine beast. Argh. It's at those times that I find being a parent particularly challenging.

    Happy SITS Saturday sharefest!
    Jenn @

  6. For some reason, this is usually the same time that I check my car's oil. And almost every time, I yell the f-word a lot and end up calling my dad crying and claiming that the car hates me.

    To his credit, he has never hung up on me.

    P.S. I love the name of your blog!


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