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Rated: 13+ · Essay · Women's · #713384
A comical insight into a woman & her cramps
"THE PAIN OF BEING A WOMAN"
or
"An Inside Look At A Woman & Her Cramps"




When one’s life is being so rudely interrupted by unreasonable cramps, one’s body discovers and executes more positions in ten minutes than in one day without said cramps. Your body begins to exhibit a sudden yoga expertise. Is this what happens to you, too? If so, read on and derive strength in the knowledge that you are not the only one. If this doesn’t happen to you, read on anyway and just feel lucky. Silently please - we sufferers don’t want to know you have it made!

It’s a time when you know that you can’t possibly live through it anymore and this must surely be it. You know you are dying. Death from menstruation could prove to be very untidy.

There is "… a time to love, a time to hate…". This is a time to feel pain, and the time to troll my Monthly Lament.

Strange things (such as this dissertation) run rampantly through your mind, what’s left of the sane part. You do anything to keep yourself distracted from the pain. But, we all know you cannot make your body forget the pain. We wish, don’t we girlfriends? You hate knowing that your stomach is turning itself inside out and back again. And only we women who get severe cramps know the unnatural torment they inflict upon your physical being; lest we not forget the mental anguish, either…

Though the sun shines brilliantly through my window, I know it’s very cool out. I’m glad, because I’d hate to have to bear this pain indoors on a beachday. I’m also relieved to be able to suffer through the pain in my bed rather than in my typing chair at the office, where everyone would be witness to my routine torture.

My only idea of fun right now is not to feel this way. Anything but this. I cannot conceive of ever having the lower half of my body free of pain. I am resigned to the fact this pain will never end.

I would be quite content if I could get hold of Morticia Addams’ stretching machine. Some may think of it as torture, but I see it now as bodily salvation.

I took one Codeine and two Maximum Strength Pamperin an hour ago. My torso is wrapped in a heating pad, set on "High". My body is fully enclosed in my electric blanket, also on the "High" setting. I love a warm cocoon. I hold pillows tight against the heating pad, and hope my satin sheets won’t burn.

Women are sometimes known for their addiction to afternoon soap operas. Not I. Right now, Looney Tunes is trying to sway me from thoughts of this over-bearing pain. With the way my hair looks from my body’s game of Twister, I feel as if I look like one of those zany Looney Tunes characters!

Again, the Changing of Position occurs. If only you could have seen my first written draft of this woman’s tale of woe, you would have seen the changing of my lettering as each word met the empty page.

There are at least 187 other things I could be doing, and at least that many other pages I could fill. But the thought of doing anything else except tying myself up in knots is completely out of the question. Trying to feel better is hard work!

Through the ages, women (and some know-it-all men who really know nothing about this particular feminine mystique) have speculated on the perfect ways to rid someone of this womenly cursive pain. Some think reading will help you forget the pain a little? Oh honey - that just makes time move all the slower! I say take the remote & flip your way through the world on television. Maybe you’ll drown yourself in laughter rather than your own pain. Some folks laud the effects of exercising; others claim cleaning does the trick. I needn’t worry about exercising just now; that’s what the Changing of Position is for me. And I cannot imagine laboring in my house at a time like this when the bed & blankets are ever so inviting!

I’m wondering just when those three capsules I swallowed are supposed to start working. I want another Codeine.
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