Little, Bitchy, Different

My girlfriend of one year recently started taking the pill and has become a blazing bitch who annoys the hell out of me all the time. When I point out that it may be the pill-considering she warned me that going on it would turn her into a flaming cunt-she says it's not the pill and that it's just me.

Have you taken the pill? Is one of its known side effects turning normally well-adjusted gals into psychotic shrews?

(Since women have been accused of psychosis for centuries prior to the invention of the pill-hence the term "hysteria"-maybe it's not the pill after all?)

-Peter

First off, if young Peter wants to keep his pecker, I would suggest that he not attempt to illuminate his formerly lovely lady luv-uh with his rather unenlightened thoughts on the female psyche.

That said, it is true that the wrong BCP dosage can do ugly things to even the most charming chiquita. And yes, I know that of which I write. As I am about the sweetest, kindest, ahem, most even-keeled gal you'd ever want to meet, it was quite a surprise when-after switching to a different dose than I was used to-I morphed into a shrieking harridan. I was suddenly that woman who throws screaming fits in public and doesn't think twice about hurling all your stuff out the window. The tiniest annoyance would become a life or (preferably) death matter. He left the milk out-I'd carry on like I'd walked in on him bumping uglies with my mother. Long-distance commercials reduced me to tears. I hollered my head off because my pants fit funny. As you might imagine, this proved quite exhausting.

My boyfriend at the time was not stupid. He backed way the fuck off. While he probably retreated out of cowardice, it was the only thing to do. When a person's brain chemistry is out of whack, they can't really see that it might be merely a matter of a tiny peach pill being swapped out for an even tinier mauve one.

(FYI, I think I speak for anyone who's ever menstruated in saying that the quickest route to Fat Lip City is snidely blaming her ovaries. Because let's face it fellas, you're a fairly annoying bunch and we don't always need to be in Hormone Hell to point it out.)

Yes, you should talk to her, but tread lightly. I would wait until you're both in a good, calm mood. Perhaps when you pick her up after that special gift massage you've been meaning to get her (as always, happy ending optional) and whisk her away to a dark bar. Then, as you're sipping champagne, gently-not condescendingly-point out that you love her and think she's adorable, but since she started taking this particular pill, her moods have been a little erratic. You can show her this column as proof that it can happen to anybody. (Though you might want to take a Sharpie to the parts where you call her an annoying bitch and whatnot.)

Getting back to the plan-I don't care how much of a flaming cunt she's been; it's difficult to yell at someone with a mouthful of bubbly and the lingering smell of massage oil still heavy in the air. Yes, this is a costly course of action, but bear in mind that this woman is altering her body chemistry for you. And depending on her insurance (if she has any), these prescriptions don't come cheap.

Like many psychiatric meds, finding the right birth control pills is a crapshoot. The pill's balance of estrogen is usually the culprit, but it's also one of the simplest things in the world to fix. There are approximately a bazillion different variations, and one of them is probably compatible with your girlie. All she has to do is call her gyno, explain the situation (which won't surprise any twat doc) and she'll prescribe an alternate solution.

Then again, some women don't fare well with the pill under any circumstances. In that case, I think you should encourage her to knock it off and investigate some other options. Condoms are the obvious choice, but one of the benefits to being in a tested-clean, monogamous relationship is that you have other options. Some drug companies are working on male contraceptives (not that I'd trust any man I know to take a pill every day-unless it came with a blowjob and a bag of Fritos), so you could consider a more permanent option. Yes, a vasectomy.

If forever slamming shut the Daddy Track fills you with fear, you might want to take a good look in the mirror. Is she really nuts? Because if you were to truly investigate the history of female hysteria, you'd find that behind just about every psycho bitch, was some dude making her that way.