Wait, what.

When I was around the age of 12, having just received the beautiful gift of CRAMPS and BLOATING and MENSTRUATING just a few months prior, I was hit with my period, which I thought was over and thus was ill prepared, in the middle of CCD class

I remember sitting in my metal, folding chair thinking, “this is not happening. No. This is not happening,” to the point where I almost believed it. Until a few moments later when there was really no way to ignore it. I sat up straight with my ankles crossed.

And how appropriate. During CCD class. What a way to drive home how badly Eve’s Original Sin will effect me throughout my life, God. As if being raised Catholic isn’t enough of a reminder that everything I enjoy in this world is completely inappropriate, you go and remind me via my vagina? That… What? My wrong-doings are innate? Passed down to me since the beginning of time? I slouched over and lay my head on the table, completely blown away that this was happening.

As I sat there I wondered if my body was playing some sort of weird, inappropriate joke on me. That’s the only reason why I would stop menstruating for 24 hours and then start again, right? For a laugh? A really funny joke my body thought up? I sat back up and glared at every female around me, guessing all of them were far too sophisticated to be caught in my position.

Or maybe It’s not. Joking or my period, I mean. It’s neither a joke nor is it my period, because, I mean, I am in CCD class… Has stigmata of the vagina ever been a thing that happens?

(EPILOGUE: IT WASN’T STIGMATA OF THE VAGINA.)

On Periods.

Becca once told me that from my tumblr it seems like I’m always on my period. I’m not.  It’s just that this tumblr is a direct line from my thought-castle to the internet and when it’s happening, it’s all I think about. The fact that it happens doesn’t bother me, it’s WHAT is happening. Biologically. Uterine lining? I’m shedding it? That sounds exhausting and disgusting. No wonder all I want to do is sleep.

For the next 3 - 5 days (the exact number will remain a mystery - much like the length of my period!) my tumblr will be dedicated to this monthly event that every ad directed towards menstruating women tells us to embrace while doing things like riding a mountain bike on top of a horse while in a short, white skirt while doing kegels. To them I say, “are you fucking serious?”

My tumblr will also be temporarily retitled “My . & I”, but only in my head because it’s kind of dumb.

Things That Shouldn’t Give Me Anxiety, But Do. Part 5, Items 8 - 12.

The ability to keep myself alive

I am not only trusted with A human life, but it’s MY human life. It is arguably the most important human life of all and I am in charge of not killing it? Who the fuck created this universe? How am I in chargeof KEEPING MYSELF ALIVE? Can’t I appoint someone to do this for me?

The ability to create a life

I can’t believe I’m just allowed to walk around with these ovaries and a functioning uterus. Probably. Probably functioning.

People making me catch on fire

Not in general, just in an apartment. I know when I get an apartment I will hate my neighbors. I know I will. I hate a lot of people, so this is just statistically speaking. Science and shit. And I’m going to have to fucking live in that place with the full knowledge that if one of these idiots leaves their coffee pot on or a hair straightener on the mattress then I AM DYING?

Someone severing my femoral artery

One time on L&O:SVU this lady severed her own femoral artery so she wouldn’t have to snitch to C-Meloni. But the way it was shot it looked like she stabbed her vagina and that made me want to just faint all over the place. Just faint and then immediately stand up and walk 6 inches and faint again and over, and over, and over again until I’ve fainted all over every square inch of this house.

But it wasn’t her vagina, it was her femoral artery. Which is only slightly less worse.

Stabbing my own vagina

I just feel like some things don’t need explaining.