Angry Monkey

A bit of biology today.  You have been warned!

When we were very young teens (and sometimes earlier), we all learned a bit about menstrual cycles, either from family members, peers, or from the fatigued and put-upon school nurse.  It seemed so straightforward, the way the information was presented.  We were told that girls generally began getting periods around the age of 12-13, and would continue to do so at regular intervals until they hit menopause at around 50 -- an impossibly old age, we thought at the time.  

Though the specific scientific terms were not necessarily taught, we learned that there are four general phases:   follicular (building) phase, ovulation, luteal phase, menstruation.  We learned that pregnancy was most likely to occur immediately before, during, or immediately after ovulation, and we understood that menstruation could involve pain and cramping. We were given advice on how to avoid embarrassments (don't wear white pants certain days of the month).  We were also told that some women experience what was termed "pre-menstrual syndrome" (PMS), which might cause them to be irritable, tearful, or have mood swings.  

(To be accurate going forward, I'll also reference the luteal phase that coincides with PMS; women who have had simple hysterectomies and retained their ovaries no longer menstruate, but will still cycle through the maturation of ovarian follicle, ovulation, and luteal phase, as well as a quiescent phase during which menstruation would otherwise have occurred.)

Many jokes are made about luteal phase/PMS.  Ask any man or woman. Humor abounds.

Oh, PMS.  You are not really funny.  The school nurse did not tell us exactly how difficult it can be.  Perhaps we would not have believed her anyway.  How could hormones, ebbing and flowing in regular patterns, influence a woman's mental state so much? And yet, they do. Not for every woman, and not to an intense degree even in most women -- but occasionally, to an unanticipated or difficult amount.

Sometimes, the luteal phase for a woman is much like having an angry monkey perched atop her brain. 

The monkey points out to the woman how she is physically uncomfortable from water retention, breast tenderness, food cravings, and/or digestive irregularities common in luteal phase.  The monkey makes sure the woman well aware of all the bodily changes.  In addition to bringing this heightened awareness of physical discomfort, the luteal phase monkey can bring an entirely different perspective on the world.  

It is an ugly viewpoint. 

The monkey whispers that the world is dark and cold. That life is unfair.  The monkey shines a harsh and sallow light upon even the tiniest of frustrations and annoyances.  The monkey points out that people are callous, self-centered, uncaring.  People are more apt to tread, literally or figuratively, on the woman's toes, and the weight of the monkey on the woman's brain ensures that each misstep is jarring and especially painful.  The monkey reminds the woman about all the things that currently make her sad or angry, linking them to similar events in the past that also made her sad or angry. It is a connect-the-dots of sorrow and ire and frustration that blankets everything the woman sees.  

The monkey generates conflict - for it wants to be coddled and treated tenderly, yet it bristles and is wary of the approach of others.  "I need," cries the monkey, and the woman is bewildered, not knowing how to calm or placate it:  hold it, but don't hold it; be kind to it, love it, though it is prickly and screeching and weeping and gives naught in return.  All of the woman's patience is used up by the monkey.  She is distracted. She cannot reach out to others, for the weight of the monkey threatens to topple her. It is exhausting. 

Finally the cycle ends.  The monkey curls up to rest, and the woman can again see clearly that there is good in the world.  Her ability to reach out to others is restored, and she can once more use her kindness and patience for people rather than for the monkey.  Small transgressions and minor irritations can be dismissed.  Without the monkey standing on her brain, she is able to concentrate, to be productive, to do what needs to be done.  She sighs with relief. 

Until the next time. 

What possible evolutionary advantage could there be to making a woman that much more sensitive, negative, and angry?  Would it yield some kind of advantage to any nascent blastocyst - perhaps ensuring that the woman had a heightened sense of the danger of the world, of the need to be aggressive to protect herself? 

We can speculate.  We do not know.  If this is some form of intelligent design, all we can do is scratch our heads perplexedly and wonder.  It is a mystery. 

All we can do is try to remember:  even an angry monkey must eventually sleep.  This, too, shall pass.  

This angry monkey was found in many places on the interwebs.  Perhaps it could benefit from some chocolate. Or a hug.