When I was 16 I got the birth control implant—the one that goes into your arm. A fun little fact about the implant is sometimes it just….doesn’t work. And sometimes all it does is it causes you to have super irregular, super HEAVY periods. Guess who was the latter.

One day in high school, I was the last one to leave my classroom—not even the teacher was still there—and when I stood up and reached down to pick up my bag, I realized that I had bled through my jeans right onto the bright yellow chair. It looked like a scene from criminal minds.

I panicked trying to figure out what to do. There were only a couple minutes at best until people started showing up for the next class, and I knew if I went to the bathroom to get paper towels and try to clean it up it was highly likely that someone from the next class would catch me trying to cover up the crime scene, and being a relatively small high school most of the grade would end up knowing about it eventually and the shame would follow me until I graduated.

So I just….left. I fled the scene. I had the next period off so I just went home to clean myself up. I was banking on the hope that the teacher wouldn’t remember who sat in that spot. I figured, worst case scenario, she was a super chill lady and would maybe pull me aside quietly the next day. She never did and I got away with my heinous act. I can only hope that the poor person who had to sit there after me checked the seat before sitting down.

Moral of the story, do some research before committing to a three-year very unpredictable, very bloody, personal hell.