Oh hormones. You really are NOT the one. In a week that’s been pretty shit anyway, I’ve spent many hours wondering if I might just melt into a puddle of hormones and then evaporate never to be seen or heard of again. There was a point on Wednesday when I found myself on the verge of tears over how long a lift was taking and angry to the point that I had the shakes over how awful trains are in this country. I don’t chuck around the word melancholy often, but that may as well have been my name at that moment in time. Poor Melancholy Rellis having a shit day, an active womb, a commuting nightmare and very wet hair from the fabulous British summer time. Woe. Was. Me.
You know when it rains heavily and the grey sky is basically you, looking down on you? Well yeah, that.
Hormones are important to our bodies. We need them for all sorts of reasons, from breaking down fat and protecting us from diseases to improving the quality of our sleep. They exist for a reason, but don’t you sometimes just want to suck them out, put them in a blender and feed them to sharks?
I once went to my GP and basically sat there hysterically explaining that I JUST CAN’T EVEN when it comes to hormones. Do I have too many? Am I normal? Can I have a cuddle? Can you just please prescribe me a cheese burger? The doctor assured me I was normal and welling up at a story of a donkey who saved a cat and that my feelings of the whole world being against me and out to ensure I am only ever miserable is perfectly normal, especially when menstruation comes along and sets up camp inside my reproductive organs.
You’ll know if you’ve ever read any of the other health woes I harp on about- bladder infections and hypermobility particularly, that I take great comfort in knowing I’m not alone. I’d like to transport hundreds of you raging, hormonal women into a giant den filled with wine and crisps and huge bars of Milka so we can revel in our emotions and cry and hug and debate politics and be generally brilliant. I have a lot of faith in my excellent gender and the ass kicking we do even when we’re angry, hungry, sad, happy and tired all at once. I like knowing we’re out there, all doing the hormonal thing together, even when it seems like the world is empty apart from us and our feels.
I’m going to go carry on drinking Fanta Lemon (or limon, because childhood holiday nostalgia) and getting emotional over how good it tastes. Hormones gonna hormone.