I lost most of the day to a mood I didn’t choose.
From the start of the day, I felt irritable, ratty, short-tempered.
The worst part is being aware of it happening, yet feeling like a steam train with a single destination in mind and no time to stop or slow down.
It feels awful in the moment and even more frustrating in the aftermath, as I reflect on the time lost to something beyond my control.
I’m in my menstrual phase right now, and much of this intense irritation stems from hormones and bodily changes. This provides context for what I was feeling today, but it doesn’t make it easier to navigate. It’s challenging to remember this when it feels like a storm is swirling inside me.
Here’s what I’m learning about understanding my irritation: I can’t really be in complete control of myself and my thoughts when something biological is happening precisely as it should.
Knowing the why doesn’t always soothe the how. There’s an inner tension between awareness and helplessness in these moments—a layered sense of feeling hijacked by my own body and emotions.
Today felt especially hijacked, and I’m struggling to hold space for myself with grace. I’m struggling to pause and decompress so that mundane things stop feeling so overwhelmingly stimulating.
Although I felt all of this today, I’m still expected to carry on—to perform, to smile, to smooth the edges—even when my insides are thunder.
The truth is that during this phase, I’m not palatable to anyone around me, and most importantly, not to myself.
But at the end of the day, I’m allowed to take up space even when I’m not at my best.
Maybe today wasn’t meant to be productive or profound. Maybe it was just meant to be survived—gently, irritably, honestly. Maybe some days, the victory isn’t forcing myself to be okay, but allowing myself to simply be, even when I don’t like what that looks like.
