cramps...and the silent tormented

I know no-one really cares, but I'm experiencing second-day-celebrating-my-womanhood abdominal ickyness. In fact, I don't really care if anyone cares, because this is MY blog, dammit. At least I know now why I was so weirdly sensitive and weepy two days ago. I think I should warn people, given that the monthy thing has apparently settled down to a semi predictable routine, sort of.

I've also been ruminating (what a weird word for thinking, it's not like cows actually think, despite what the commercials indicate) on the phenomenon of "the silent treatment". This is a thing I used to get from my parents when I was being punished. It was normally, or abnormally dysfunctional in this case, accompanied by the reinforced feeling of absolute lack of self worth. Like the fact that I broke a dish was grounds for complete negation of me as a person. I used to come home on weekends and experience that weird feeling of everyone home, but no-one home. And as I've grown older (I won't say up), I've spent a significant portion of my life avoiding situations where I'll get the silent thing. However, it's become increasingly prevalent, regardless of agreements to the contrary. The really weird thing is that when I get upset myself, I go all quiet. In that case I'm just thinking of a diplomatic and courteous way to say how I'm feeling.

Sometimes I swear I'm dumber than the average bear, because when in the middle of confusing or upsetting situations or conflict, I can't articulate anything. You'd think since I'm at least average in the whole facility with words thing, I could actually defend myself, but nooo.

And another thing...sometimes I really wish other people would treat me with the same courtesy that I treat them. I'm certainly not going to get up on the cross and be a martyr, so I demand that people be nice to me. I try, at least, even in the middle of monthly PMS, to curb my sharp tongue, and it srprises and dismays me when other people snap...

I hate gowing up.