I'm sorry for the plate i'm about to throw at your head..

One minute I am sitting on the sofa, calmly bawling my eyes out at the kitten from the RSPCA Advert, the next I am trying to pin my partner to the wall with a spoon.

The reasonable section of my brain is questioning this slightly abnormal behaviour, whilst in the other section, there is a rampaging homicidal maniac smashing up vases and screaming 'feed me chocolate' at the top of its lungs. Most women will understand exactly what this means. However every month I forget and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me.

So I drop partner to the floor. Shuffle my bloated body towards the calendar, and lo and behold yes. I am due on. Once this knowledge has sunk in, I then feel completely justified in retiring to the sofa where I prepare to indulge myself for the next few days in chocolate, coffee and drugs.

Why is it that someone women can sneeze, and go 'oh, look, my period.' Then they sneeze again and its done?!?!?! They stand there and say, oh I know how you feel. I feel uncomfortable and bloated too when I am on.

Really???? This is being said by a women, who looks so well put together you wonder if they even know what a period looks like. And to be honest. Well, there is more bloating on my ankles than there is on that belly.

I on the other hand, will often be found during this event, on all fours on the kitchen floor, baying at the moon like some mortally wounded pig because I am such pain. I have often woken my partner up scratching pathetically at the pillow in my sleep and apparently 'whining like a kicked puppy.'

I also don't look like a women when I am on. I look like something someone found behind the fridge and decided to put it in a suit and shove it out the door. I am reduced to grunting and pointing at things like a toddler. I find it hard to navigate my way round inanimate objects. I manage to slam my own fingers in doors, and once, I have even managed to shoot the tampon I was about to use, out of its applicator, and over the toilet door. Yes it was a public loo. And Yes. It WAS my last one.

I know there are some who enjoy sex during their monthly cycle. SEX!!! Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME!! The most activity that I can muster of an intimate nature, is sobbing on my partners should because Sylvester has finally eaten tweetie-pie......

You would think that i have adjusted to this over the years. Nope. Every month the hormonal swing takes me by surprise and I am always left scratching my head as to why I am being so irrational. And every month the penny drops and I reach for the Paracetomol and Codeine. I was recently prescribed Co-Codomol for when it gets really bad. Ahhh, Co-Codamol.......I thought floaty light, it thought death to the blonde one.

After I had had a particularly bad attack one month, other half had carted me down to the doctors. All tea and sympathy because they had found me in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, in a gibbering snot-rag state of pain. Doctor had thus dispatched me from him, clutching precious prescription for CO-Codomol. We did the drug run and then off we went home. Now, here's the bit where it went wrong. I was expecting to experience that woolly, slightly disjointed feeling you get with paracetamol and codeine, only more intensified. I was expecting to cocoon myself in my duvet and sit perfectly blissed out on the sofa. Lovely, thank you very much. However, what I got was a ride I couldn't get off of.

Oh My Good God...........

I stood up from the sofa, declaring I was taking to bed. I walked through a tilting hallway to the bottom of the stairs, where I slid down into a cold-sweating hulk, clawing at the stairs, that seemed to be slipping away from me. My legs were apparently made of treacle, and the last thing I remember before my world disappeared into a swirling mass of colour was feebly crying out, 'Oh Bollocks'. I woke to find a completely petrified partner standing over me, as they, yet again, found me at the bottom of the stairs in a heap.

This is apparently what you call 'a bad trip'.


The Co-Codamol have remained in my cupboard untouched ever since this event. And although I have been assured by the Doctor that if I take only one, rather then the two prescribed, I should be fine. However, I think I will stick with the tried and tested method of, Coffee, Chocolate, A Hot water bottle and randomly punching my partner hard on the arm.......