Hippity Hoppity Bloody Massacre

WARNING: This blog has some very violent content, adult topics and might not be suitable for everyone. So keep that in mind when reading it. I have no problem being open about my life no matter how grotesque. If you are a woman and you are planning on taking a long distance hike and have never done it before, you’re going to have to consider what you plan on doing when Aunt Flo shows up. You most likely will not experience the same symptoms I encountered in the story below and I don’t wish the below story on anyone. Do your research, listen to your body and consult a doctor. If you really know me you know my mere EXISTANCE requires a warning sticker.


I haven’t walked since that morning-walk I took on the Pacific Crest Trail in Lake Morena.

I knew that for my official hike coming up in March of 2016 I would need to have a grip on my menstrual cycle. I need to be fully prepared for it and not have any surprises. About three weeks ago I decided to begin using the Nuva Ring.

Having feelings for the person I am hiking with made me want to ensure I didn’t get pregnant while out there either.

The appointment at Planned Parenthood was the same as I always remembered it. They asked if I was being abused, being forced to do things I didnt want, was I pregnant, so on and so forth. They confirmed my sexual past history that was on file. They confirmed my past pregnancies & birth.

They had me submit to a HIV test. After twenty minutes it showed that I didn’t have HIV. Which I didn’t think I did anyways.

Then they handed me my stapled brown paper bag of nuva rings and smiled. The nice man at the front desk jumped up eager to help me sign out. I remember thinking he really seemed to love his job. If I was his supervisor I would tell him everyday how valuable he was and that he had impeccable customer service skills. But I am not a supervisor anymore. Now, I am unemployed and preparing for a hike. Training to be a “hiker” or an “adventurer” or whatever title I would someday make up and assign myself.

I’ve used the nuva ring in the past with no problems and everyone I knew who has used it has experienced success with it. I had absolutely no question in my mind this was the ideal option for me when preparing for my upcoming hike.

I called Ross, the wonderful man I will soon be hiking with, as soon as my appointment was over. I felt accomplished, Nuva Rings in hand, no trail-babies in our future! We had discussed it many times; our past was proof we didn’t belong having children just like we didn’t belong in normal society. We often bonded over this. It was this connection and mutual understanding that kept us hooked on the phone for hours practically every night talking about everything from the hike to time travel, aliens, Dharamsala, Hawaii… I would cry about my past, how much I missed my child, and I would laugh at his jokes and we would coo pet names at each other. Talking to him has never gotten old and I can’t imagine it ever getting boring. Our minds are far too vast and our dreams endless. We will never run out of words for one another.

Only one day after shoving that Nuva Ring in I had a horrendous dream. In my dream I was holding my child and while holding her I found bald spots. She cried from embaressment because she pulled her hair out from depression and I cried from guilt. I wanted to murder myself. I wanted to shove a knife into my gut and end it all at the sight of it. I wanted to take the blame, cleanse her of her depression and absorb all of it. I woke up shaken, sweaty, panicky and on the brink of vomiting whatever was left in my stomach from the night before. The feeling of wanting to die carried over into my day.

I tried to shake it off. I tried my best.

I discussed the dream in detail with Ross and my sister. We all had come to the conclusion that it was most likely my subconcious bringing to light some unresolved issues, that it was my brain expressing it’s greif concidering my daughters father hasnt allowed me to speak to my daughter in weeks. Ross mentioned breifly that maybe it was my hormones on the birth control. Any of it was possible.

I promised Ross and my sister if I had anymore traumatic dreams like that I would call Planned Parenthood and get off the Nuva Ring.

I didn’t have any more dreams right away but my emotions roller coasted over the next few weeks. I would snap at people without much thought, over think situations, have private outbursts with tears and snot. I would have moments of elation and joy. I would try to meditate, lose focus and think about shoving a sharp knife into the soft spot on the side of my head. Most of all, I would keep these thoughts to myself thinking they would pass.

I would often tell Ross when he noticied I wasnt my chipper self, “It will pass. I am waiting for it to pass. Feelings are fleeting. Nothing is permanent.” It was true and it was my way of justifying to myself why I couldn’t be fully open about my thoughts. I thought, no need to create worry over something that was gonna go away anyways.

Ever since the morning walk on the PCT my emotions kept getting progressively worse. I was snapping at people and noticing it. I was crying more often and not able to keep it as private as I had been.

Yesterday I retired early to my bedroom to be alone thinking it might help my mood. I read a few more pages from Cheryl Strayed “Wild” and fell asleep.

I had yet another horrendous dream. In this dream I had my backpack filled with my belongings and a tent. I left my cell phone on the kitchen table and I left. I started walking to Phoenix Arizona. I made my way there and wandering through town I recognised a friend of Ross from photos he had taken. I approached him and asked if he knew Ross to confirm it was really him. I asked him to relay the info that I was in town, explained I walked there from California and that I would be in my tent under a bridge. He seemed confused with my request and disgusted at the sight of me but agreed to relay the message.

I propped my tent up under a bridge, set snares in a field nearby and made myself at home.

Then the dream took a turn for the worse. Every rabbit I caught in a snare I would pet and show love to only to hold it by its ears and slice its throat open then grab it by the feet and shake the blood out all over the ground outside my tent. I’d do it repeatedly, rabbit after rabbit, without any remorse. Over and over again the whole time wondering when Ross would find me. If he would come find me. What if he lost interest? What if he decided he didn’t want me in his life anymore? What if he found someone else? Rabbit after rabbit. One giant hippity hoppity bloody massacre.

I retired to my tent and eventually I heard foot steps. Peeking through a hole in my tent I saw it was Ross. I lunged out of the tent and into his giant viking arms. He held me as I cried. He looked at the blood everywhere with horror and held me tight like people in movies hold aomeone that just died in their arms. Like holding me might squeeze me back to normalcy.

Again, I woke up in tears, shaking, sobbing, crying and gasping for air. I had a horrible headache pulsating right above my right eye. My mind was racing over my losing my daughter, my mother, myself, my ex… everything. I was losing everything. I was losing my god damn mind.

After discussing the dream with Ross we agreed it was time to take the birth control out. I would have to record my periods the old fashioned way and when it’s time for us to go on our hike I will simply have to be prepared in some other way.

Laying there in bed, feeling miserable, depressed, hopeless and lonely I ripped that fucking ring out of me and threw it away.

I highly doubt there was any real immediate releif but I felt releived. I felt hope for the first time since my initial nightmare. Hopeful I might be my normal self very soon again.

I still feel a fog floating around my head, I have no desire to do much outside of the house and this headache keeps coming and going. I keep catching myself snapping here and there and I keep having to apologise.

I called Planned Parenthood, they recorded my symptoms, agreed on my decision to end the birth control and asked me to come in for an evaluation. I told them I just wouldn’t be using birth control at all anymore.

Tomorow is another day and I plan on getting back to it. I need to walk. I need to prepare for this hike. I need to see this to the end. Im going to get out of this funk I have found myself in and I am going to press forward. I’m not going to give up.

The Nuva Ring has been a wonderful option for MANY people and I am not putting birth control or Planned Parenthood down in any way. It simply didn’t work with my body well at all and it’s okay. No one was hurt, my family and friends know I love them and everyone on this planet who knows me is well aware I am a broken little cookie. What can ya do? …. Not a damn thing except press forward.

5 Replies to “Hippity Hoppity Bloody Massacre”

  1. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, strong woman. And you’re my broken little cookie:)
    “The stars won’t shine without the darkness”


  2. Wow! Much respect to you! I try to keep my blog more on the “G – rated” end of the spectrum, but sometimes I wish that I could share just like you’ve done. I can testify to the fact that having to deal with your menstrual cycle while traveling is a nightmare. I’ve even tried to take medications to delay it, only to turn into Broadzilla and wreck the entire trip. An absolute horror! Anyway, I’m sure you’ll come to a solution, and again, the utmost respect to you 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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