Yesterday was my first day of Prometrium this cycle. Yesterday was also the day I completely flipped out. On Mr. Sparky. Sort of.
Let's just say that hormones are not something I am new to. I have always had a certain relationship with them that Mr. Sparky has learned to accept. He hides under the bed like a scared kitty and comes out all lovey dovey when the storm is over. Except it really isnt' that bad. Really. I tend to be a little short when the hormones are a ragin' and he tends to get the brunt of it. Only because he is the person I'm living with right now. My poor parents got to experience me for quite a while longer than Mr. Sparky. He should be grateful. Poor dad. Right when my hormones went all wonky my mom started menopause. He should have just moved out of the house during that time.
But that paragraph above really makes me seem worse than I am. I think I am worse than I am, but many friends have said that in fact, I am not the true witch I seem to think I am during that "time of the month". Does anyone else hate that phrase as much as me? "Oh, don't mind her. It's (said in hushed tones) that time of month". I'll show you what happens when it's "that time of month" mister if you keep that up.
Now, what my trusty friends and sidekicks have not had the chance to witness is the new and improved Nessa. The Nessa who, on purpose, ingests 200 mg. of progesterone during the almighty two weeks where the hormones are surging anyway. No, they have not had the pleasure of witnessing that monster. I'm sure they are thanking their mighty stars* that they are 100 miles away from me and not able to feel the wrath. I am sure they would be sorry for my husband and pray for his bodily safety on an hourly basis. Because internet? Let me tell you this. I AM NOT PRETTY ON PROGESTERONE.
I consider myself a level headed arguer during most parts of the month. Even during "that time of the month" (you cannot see or hear it, but the disgust for that phrase is soooo strong, my office is starting to steam) I feel that I handle arguments very well. I never storm off, or throw hissy fits. I don't feel that it is productive to a good marriage. However, yesterday as I pulled into the garage, Mr. Sparky came out and started mocking me for being on the phone. I don't know what happened. I snapped. Like a cool crisp cucumber. Except I wasn't cool, nor very crisp. He came over to open the door, so I locked it. Then I waved at him, backed out of the driveway and closed the garage door. Then I drove around the block. This whole time I continued my conversation with my friend S. Only when I got back to my street did I tell her what I had just done. And here's the kicker - I WASN'T EVEN ANGRY! But it was so juvenile and stupid.
I still don't know how I feel about it. I was a bit standoffish with Mr. Sparky for a good hour after that. I know it was foolish, I know it was wrong. So I apologized to him, but still feel very ambivalent about the whole thing. It's kind of creepy to watch yourself freak out like that and not have any feelings about it. I don't know, maybe I'm making too much out of nothing. Hopefully this isn't a foreshadow to what pregnancy (if, if, if) will be like.
*Some how I was channeling a little old southern lady sitting on a porch drinking tea and playing bridge with the other little ladies in my town. Apparently.