Feather In The Wind

Menopause Madness And Me

Dear GOD, make it stop. This whirlwind of emotional turmoil, this up, and down, and up, and down. Turns, and twists, and happy bliss, and then deep dives into this sorrow that I don’t think I could possibly describe sufficiently, but to say the intensity can be overwhelming. The madness of menopause has overtaken me, and I am what could be termed sometimes an emotional wreck.

I am the Edmund FitzGerald.

Bif Naked in a recent article makes Menopause seem like some tramp through a meadow. Course her Menopause was induced, and at 37 I suppose at the very least she must be happy to be rid of the damn nuisance of the whole period shite, and just get it all over with. And I totally agree. Absolutely. Get the fuck on with it already.

However, Mom, I diverge with her in that it’s all something one can easily overcome with the right attitude. Nice sentiment, but that’s not very helpful. As much as I wholeheartedly admire her for talking about a taboo topic, and for sharing her experiences, BUT… she must be having a different form of MENOPAUSE then I.

You see, menopause is a chance to embrace your changing body, your femaleness, the gifts of your genetics and gender. Your body, your menopause. Your menopause, your way. BIF NAKED

Of course, she’s a famous rock star, and piddly old me is an unhappy and poor creative, striving to claw out a life for myself. With grief and betrayal hollering at me from backstage, and the silent whisperings of disappointment, I guess my path is perhaps a little more cluttered than hers, but still, far be it for me to question or look down my nose at the suffering of another, especially one who has beaten cancer, or the other hurdles they may face I know nothing of, HOWEVER…

Weird adult acne? Lie about your age. It’s making you look younger!

Hot flash? Wear a bikini wherever and whenever you can (but keep a chic sweater dress handy as you will freeze immediately upon hot flash conclusion).

Dryness in the downstairs? A fantastic opportunity to suggest your partner take more time to make things a bit dreamier and sexier. It’s kind of hot to get a hot flash in the middle of a racy night with your sweetheart.

Bite me Bif. Just bite me.

Mom, man I wish you’d talked about this to me, did you even have any symptoms? I mean, dying at 54 of cancer we know started in and around the area of your Uterus, you must have had some symptoms. But you said not a word that I’m aware of. So much so that I asked MsP to talk to Lex and me about her experiences, just so we could at least know what to expect. Especially Lex, with all the anxiety and mental health issues in our gene pool, I think it is rather important to be prepared.

Cause this menopause madness can be mayhem. It’s like riding some funky psychological surfboard, trying to navigate through all these curls and twists, and I ain’t good at that shite, as you well know. Damn it.

The thing is, lately I thought maybe I was also depressed, cause I cry a lot too. But, I don’t think so Mom, cause I think it’s more that I just FEEL so much, that I become completely overwhelmed by it. As of late I’ve been smokin’ a little of the ganja, and it seems to dull these torrential mood swings. It gives one this blissful sense of what the fuck, and I suppose perhaps that’s the beeatch’s trick, I wonder? Em. Ya think Mom?

Well, anyways, I’m bungling through it, day by day. Today being filed away in the bad day category.

Life does go on, even if I’m flashin’ all night, and swingin’ all day.

In other news, crossroads man and I are as well flashin’ all night and swingin’ all day, though perhaps in other ways. It is going well, and we talk lots, and about good and useful stuff. We’ve set our hearts on the same course, and seem to be experiencing similar feelings towards one another. I told him how I respect his independence and admire the freedom he has in being able to make money doing something he loves.

He is a good man, and he has had his past, and overcame stuff, and even if the ceilings of his apartment are being rotted away due to holes and faults, he is well on his way to getting it all sorted out, and he does not need me for anything but love and companionship. Isn’t that a trip? Wowzers. He actually inspires me.

The sun looks like it’s finally shining again, after some April showers the last few days. Mr. Crossroads man is home sorting out his garage so he can get back to work on creating beautiful things out of wood for people, as he’s been away from it for a bit. And so I must get at least a few moments of vitamin D, and the sunshine on my face.

Always,
PaulaB

7 thoughts on “Menopause Madness And Me

  1. Oh my god, I googled “I am a fucking tragic menopausal wreck what is wrong with me” and came upon your article. No answers- thank you for that, except for community. But I was about to light up, or continue being tragic and romantic and pensive and fucking gag me…so thank you for that too. I am happy for you to have a supportive man, but am pretty sure mine is a narcissistic ass, but I could be wrong- who the fuck knows and can tell now??? Just. Thanks. <3

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    1. no worries…and thank you.. yeah…it’s a [email protected] my french :-! . The guy mentioned in that post just went bye bye this last month. Unfortunately I fear my passion and mind frightened him…damn, good riddance…don’t need that stuff. de-stressing my life did wonders, plus diet too, you know, lots of chocolate…dark only.

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      1. Aww I am so sorry to hear that.I was hoping you had found one who helped you destress- not add to it. It certainly feels like a solo journey, but I think the key is to surround ourselves with other women who can empathize. I really thank you for your passion and your honesty. And sorry for the potty language- I save that for the nighttime rants between hot flashes and red wine- but I will try more dark chocolate:)My daughter left me with this gem: Never shop when you are hungry, date when you are horny, or post when you are drunk…Not that I did any of that…

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  2. Hi Paula – can totally empathise – that mix of dark foetal position inducing dumbness and then this urge to suck every piece of time up (even now sitting in the quiet Saturday morning tapping away with the family still sleeping.) If there was some room you could go into and draw out the breadth of emotions with the cracking disarray in your head it would truly look bizarre. The sunshine is a good thing and riding my bike is the best and painting like a mad woman in the shed is my saviour – I am basically just preparing to become a completely mad old woman and that’s all I can embrace.

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