Bitch Please.

*Warning, harsh words and explicit language used to discuss the emotional hardships of PMS on a marriage...proceed with caution.

This is the Urban Dictionary's definition of PMS that I believe is most fitting:

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The transformation of woman to beast, occurring once every month. Similar to the werewolf, a PMSing woman becomes a dog-like creature capable only of eating, sleeping, barking, annoying the neighbors, and leaving messes that she expects you to clean up. Adam probably accepted the forbidden fruit from Eve, because she was premenstral. Can't say I blame him; I'd choose the wrath of God over a woman with PMS any old day.

I don't know what my problem is, I mean, really...I know I'm stressed, but I think as of right now, my husband is looking into this method of relief....

And, I'm kind of with him on that. I'm like this walking bomb of hormonal madness. Men have no idea, I know they do get a good deal of our tongue lashings when we are going through our hormonal rages, but imagine if they had to handle these type of crazy fluctuations. My husband can't even handle a cold, he turns into this zombie, add that to being temporarily bi-polar, and bleeding from his area, and I think he may just die.

He can be super sweet, and then say I'm crazy (in a loving way), in which I respond with this....

He calms me down, with this look of  "Well, it was nice seeing you again Mr. Hyde, can you please tell me when Dr. Jekyll will be returning? 5 Minutes...okay, I guess I'll wait..." Later, when I come out of my emotional coma, and realize my actions, I will face palm myself, and laugh at my husbands methods of handling it.

All in all, I believe we have this perfect combination. He lets me throw out my bad words, while taking them with a total grain of salt, knowing I'm just spewing out words of insanity, to relieve my inner exhaustion.

He loves me, and I him. He can handle my crazy, and my sailor mouth.

And let me tell you, I respect him so much for that. He knows how I really am, even if I have a hard time remembering myself. He is a beautiful soul, and I am deeply in love with him, even now, with our ten year anniversary coming around. He is my souls counterpart, my sanity, my insanity, my laughter, my tears, my all. Without him, my madness, would actually be madness. I am so grateful, he can handle me at my worst, so that I continually try to give him my best. He's my favorite person, even when he's not my favorite person. So honey, happy anniversary, and thank you, for accepting my inner psycho, and forgiving me when I know not what I say. You're the best.