Hormones

My hormones were a bit out of whack my first trimester.  I developed an unfortunate kink in my verbal filtering system that caused me to argue more.  A couple times a week, I wanted to yell at random people because of things they said, even though the logical side of my brain maintained such a thing was irrational and overblown.  It calmed down for my second trimester, when hormones were in balance and all was harmonious (though I still sobbed at ridiculous things, like Glee).

Now that I'm in my third trimester...Oh.  My.  Gosh.  The second my anger gets a spark in it, it explodes.  Then it takes me literally hours to calm down.  The worse the trigger, the bigger the explosion and the more time I need to deal with it.  Last night, for instance, we popped over to my mom's house.  The mother's husband was there, oozing the stench of vodka, not minding his own business.  First he insulted non-English speakers, saying that they are all ignorant and stupid, and doing it in such a way as to be massively racist.  (Usually it's reserved for "Mexicans," meaning all Latin Americans, but last night it was directed toward Russians, French, and Asians.)  Then he blabbed about retail, which he's worked in for all of a month, trying to convince Jeremelon of how awesome he (the mother's husband) is for working for Home Depot.  The Jeremelon IS retail.  That was a somewhat amusing but mostly annoying conversation to listen to, with the Jeremelon getting progressively more angry.  The mother's husband kept walking away to do other things because he, well, doesn't like us, but then kept coming back to say the same things over and over and over again.  It's awful what pickling one's brain with alcohol does.  But!  The bigger issue was normally when we leave, it's the Jeremelon who's seething.  Normally, I can down shift my own feelings and let go of the general annoyance that is the mother's husband.  Last night, our roles were reversed.  I felt massive need to do physical violence.  I said things to the Jeremelon and Andypillar on the drive home that I can't believe came out of my mouth.  And that was AFTER having dinner and calming down, after Andypillar mentioned the mother's husband made a snide remark about us as we were leaving.  Once we were home, I had so much pent up energy that I simultaneously wanted to punch something, shout, cuddle, and sob.  It doesn't help that when I get tired, I don't notice.  And tired always makes me extra emotional.

I need a sign that says "Caution: Highly Flammable."

Of course, it didn't help that my mom revealed the other night that he hurt her.  What does one do with something like that, when the victim is unwilling to help herself?