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Birth Control, it’s a war!

 
birth-control1In terms of medical experiments with the ol’ BC (that’s Birth Control not Before Christ) I have been a bit of a tortured lab bunny. There are many reasons why a woman would choose to take BC- be that they have Shark week (period) problems or that they just want to engage in carefree wild sex at any point without the constant fear of getting pregnant. Because lets face it; no sex (no matter how hard they bang the headboard and set those loins on fire) is worth having a miniature human who’s head resembles that of a potato and shits itself ten times a day.
I’m kidding, I love babies.
Actually, I don’t, I hate kids.
So the reason I chose to go on BC was because this scenario is my idea of hell, that and my uterus hates me. At sixteen I had extremely irregular shark week so my mother (being the nosey invasive shit that she is) suggested that ‘we’ (yes, we!) booked an appointment with the doctor. Now to explain the appearance of this particular doctor- he had a penis. Yes, a male doctor was trying to explain to me what was normal (and what wasn’t) in terms of Time of the Month, like he had any idea.
Excuse me sir, where is your vagina?

My mum rambled on and on whilst I occasionally got the opportunity to have any input which was basically “yeah..vagina..it’s erm a real pain.” Awkward doesn’t begin to explain how I felt. I literally would rather have been humped anally by Seabiscuit at the Olympic opening ceremony. Long story short he gave me Cerazette (the mini pill) and assured me that my ‘lady problems’ would become regular.
Regular my ass!
I think this is where my trust issues with men started. And with my past relationship they seemed to be set in stone. Note to all women out there; you can’t trust a man to take on the responsibility of BC. He will let you down. This is not a negative attitude, this is a realistic one. In my experience the men I date are very unreliable when it comes to even putting on a condom.
birth-control-travel-tipsI know right, how hard can that be?
You roll the damn thing on, and far enough up that the question of “is it still on?” doesn’t arise promptly after you’ve dumped the motherload. Thank you for the mess by the way.
Langa, repeat to yourself “Thou shall not hate on ex for his stupidity, its not his fault he has bad luck when it comes to thinking.”
On Cerazette I had my period for 47 days, yes, I did count because I do indeed have the brains to do so. Female intelligence is not a myth! I then became anaemic and extremely angry. Oh so very angry. This resulted in another trip to the doctors, and (yes you guessed it) another set of pills that would ‘sort everything out’. Only this time I now had irregular bleeds, migraines and severe acne. Cue more anger.
MY FACE LOOKED LIKE A PEPPERONI PIZZA FOR FUCK SAKE!
…Cue Anger Management referral.
I was put on four different types of BC; mini pill (Cerazette), Depo (the injection), combination pill (Rigevidon) and another combination pill (Milinette). All of which resulted in the same bleeding pattern, a chronic one. When you have shark week for months at a time you begin to develop the traits of a serial killer. You genuinely hate on the entire male population. Particularly if you have Daddy Issues, you blame your dad- even though that makes no logical sense.
 birth-control-combined-with-breath-control
Damn this bleeding, I hate you Dad, why did I have to inherit your faulty gene’s. 
You cry at all times. I remember crying because my mum had changed our brand of hand soap without telling me. And for those of you who think that is pathetic, just so you know going from Dove to Palmolive is a real come down. That’s like dating Angelina Jolie then breaking up with her and dating Miley Cyrus. See? I also cried when she bought me a can of Red Bull, it was a beautiful moment, refrigerated and everything. My point is; you feel as crazy as a pregnant lady, considering its the very thing you are trying to avoid.
If you’re reading this article thinking ‘oh sweet jesus, this can’t get any worse’ you are in fact wrong. In October of 2013, after three years of this shit, I was told I was infertile. They had done blood tests to discover if there was an underlying problem as to why the BC would be reacting this badly. Cysts in my ovaries is what they came back with. Cysts. In. My. Ovaries. Being in a relationship at that time with a man who seen children in his future family portrait, yeah, the future seemed bleak. This was of course not my first thought.
You mean to tell me that I could have been carelessly bumping uglies THIS WHOLE TIME WITHOUT-
…Cue Anger Management referral #2
Give it another six months and a heck of a lot of unsafe romping, I was notified by the doctors that they were wrong and had mixed up my bloods, I was in fact very fertile.
Fan-Fucking-Tastic.
As of now (a few mistakes and a break up later) I’m now on Nexplanon, that small contraceptive rod implant type thing. I figured this was the only one I hadn’t tried yet. The irregular shark week is a bitch, they claim that the first three months are the hardest but I suppose time will tell. Hoping it stops so I can once again hop on the penis express and have a jolly good time (and hopefully an orgasm!)
Sincerely, an extremely loyal Tampax customer.

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Langa

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