like death warmed over

20 Jan, 2026

every month, like clockwork, i wish i'd been born biologically male instead. gender is a weird, wonderful and malleable thing (i'm good w/ any pronouns!), but this is not about that. well, it's a little bit about that, since feeling like my insides are constantly a hair's breadth away from imploding serves as a not-so-great reminder of how i came assembled in the box. but it's moreso about the loss—of time, of momentum, and what feels like incremental attempts at progress.

nsaids truly are the working woman's faustian bargain: i trade my soul (and healthy, functioning gastrointestinal tract) in exchange for not wanting to hollow myself out with a soup spoon for a week out of each month, with varying degrees of success. at my best, i show up to prior commitments with a slightly pinched-looking expression, my responses blunt and taciturn. i grit my teeth and run through my rolodex of well-worn plausible explanations until the pain becomes unbearable and i have no choice but to leave. it's either that or collapse on the floor, writhing like a person possessed...not exactly appropriate behavior in polite company.

this is going to sound like gross exaggeration, but menstrual cramps are (without a doubt) the worst pain i've experienced in my twenty-odd years of life. broken bones, blistering burns, and blows to the face do not even come close. it runs in my mother's side of the family, along with heart disease, hypertension, and breast cancer, so it seems particularly cruel that my generation of the [redacted] clan is almost entirely comprised of 独生女. ibuprofen¹ and a hot water bottle can only do so much to alleviate symptoms of genetically pre-disposed suffering.

at my most fanciful, i'd imagine that i'd come pretty close to the sensation of having my liver repeatedly torn out by a particularly spiteful eagle. but even then, all prometheus had to do was sit tight and lay prone, helpless to resist zeus' divine retribution. he didn't have to haul himself up to cover a 5 am opening shift, give a thesis defense, or replace a flat tire on the side of a highway while his mutilated innards spilled out between his fingers.

over the years, i've developed some practices to mitigate my suffering wherever possible, and i've found that mindful consumption throughout my cycle has made a noticeable difference. in the week leading up to armageddon, i try to avoid spicy foods, cold drinks, and caffeine; once d-day arrives, i make sure to dress warmly (regardless of weather) and consume copious amounts of hot tea (white tea and 유자차 are tried-and-true staples, although honey w/ ginger² is fantastic too), congee, and noodle soup. steaming and brothy is the way to go, even at the height of a texas-typical heat wave.

there will always be days when the waves of pain are unavoidable, no matter how careful or diligent i am with taking care of my body, but i think it's still worth the effort of doing what i can to swim against the current and resist the onslaught whenever possible. radical self-care doesn't have to look like early-morning reformer pilates or curated hobonichi techo layouts—it can simply be the act of making yourself a hot cup of tea and resigning yourself to an evening of mind-numbing conlaw readings...the 14th amendment certainly isn't going to analyze itself.

manageably,

t