READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

So today is the second day of my six-day period. And *my* second days feel like someone has stuck a dagger in your gut and is twisting the damn thing around. I can picture the innards below my bellybutton swirling along the blade as it buries itself to the hilt. And no, I don't take ibuprofen for my pain. Not often. Who wants to be a slave to period-painkillers? (Not I, said the very lonely cat.)

But you know what's the worst part of periods? No, not the cramping, though that does suck considerably. No, not the fear of leakage or stainage or whatever else-age either.

If your squick threshold is low, don't read past this. I warned you.

***

Period shits.

There I said it.

Period Shits.

PERIOD SHITS.

PERIOOOOD SHIIIITS.

That feeling where all the cramping pains seem to press down onto your ovaries or uterus or another reproductive organ, and then you run to the bathroom because you only just now realized that THAT pain wasn't regular period pain but period pain mixed with I-GOTTA-TAKE-A-DUMP pain and then you're at the toilet and you sit down and

BA-DOOOOOOOOSSSSHHH--

And then for a few seconds (or minutes) you sit there, still and unmoving, because you can't move under the wake of sweet releeaase and reliiieef and only later, FINALLY, you breathe a sigh of a shit well-dumped and reach for the toilet paper.

Right then. Finished here. Alright. I'm good. It's cool now. Done.