In which the Husband has a death wish
For some reason, the Husband thinks it's funny to wind me up when I have PMT. It's not remotely amusing and one of these days, he's going to understand why!
Yes, that sounds like a bit of a threat and, to be honest, it is! He doesn't seem to grasp the danger that he's in and I feel it's my duty to help him understand! I am one of those women who suffers from horrendous Pre-Menstrual Tension. Honestly, it's frightening - I even scare myself! I have absolutely no control over it. It's not just the shortness of temper that affects me; it's the inability to speak and read properly, to judge distance and the placement of inanimate objects (my spatial awareness is awful at the best of times), the clumsiness, the forgetfulness (also, not just something that affects me before a period.) In short, I'm an absolute monster when I have PMT. I shout, I lose my rag at the slightest thing, I have zero patience or empathy for anyone.
I'm probably going to cause huge uproar amongst feminists by saying this, but it's a real issue! I feel like there are two main camps when it comes to the subject of PMT. Some claim to be completely unaffected by it: "How dare you suggest that I should take it easy, or not make that important work presentation whilst in the throes of it. I don't suffer from it anyway, it's all in the mind, thank you very much!" And there are the truthful ones, like me. Women that will hold their hands up and openly declare "Stay away from me. It's not safe to be in my presence. Keep your distance or you might come to regret it!"
I have tried to describe all the horrors of PMT to the Husband. I've yelled it at him when he dares to interrupt me whilst I'm trying to give the kids a bath, I've tried explaining it when the fury has passed and I'm able to realign with my more calm and balanced self. It doesn't seem to matter how I break it down. He just doesn't understand it, despite my sincerest warnings. His life is in danger! How hard is that to grasp! Don't dare to make a joke within 2 metres of me! Don't look at me that way! He must have a self-destructive urge. Why else would he think it's funny to deliberately wind me up when I'm stroppy? Hugging me when I'm trying to finish the washing up, teasing me, kissing me, or even looking at me in the wrong manner. I have tried explaining it over and over again. I've actually informed him his life could be in danger - and meant it! I could easily grab a knife from the kitchen and lob it at him, get a saucepan out the cupboard and beat him round the head with it. My dressing gown cord is practically a weapon in waiting, not to mention our Renault on the drive.
After a bit of internet research, I have discovered there have been a number of criminal cases where Premenstrual Syndrome has been recognised as a mitigating factor in the commission of crime. It is now understood that this temporary madness is beyond our control and we cannot be held accountable for our actions. So, dear Husband, it looks like I might just get away with it too...
Please tell me that I am not alone in my craziness? Surely there must be more women out there like me; who suffer considerably during these challenging times, who's families are left cowering under the kitchen table (if they have any sense) to avoid a similar fury? Leave me a comment below.
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