As I write this blog entry tonight, I am wrapping up celebrating my birthday weekend. I just turned 45 years old. In my head I don't feel that old, but in my joints and muscles, I do. When I look in the mirror I'm seeing the changes gradually taking place. I feel like I am okay with it, but nature is providing me a special gift this year that has me questioning what I am really okay with.
About a week or so ago, I started experiencing rage beyond what I normally experience. Rage to the point my boss said, "Why don't you go home...as a matter of fact, GET OUT. I say this with love, GO HOME NOW." Hmph. Wimp. The height of my rage is when shit gets solved and world problems are discussed in an open and honest forum. This was no time to go home. THIS was the time to hash some shit out. However, there is this whole workplace appropriate thing and honestly, you really can only use variations of the phrase "Mother Trucker" so many times before people get all sensitive. Not everyone is as hearty as me and frankly, it's a damn shame.
Anyway, I did what I always do when my bitch switch is stuck on high, I checked my Period Tracker app. Well, turns out things were late. I'm never late. Not since I was 10 years old have I been late. That's right, you wonder why I'm such a bitch, I've been dealing with this shark week thing since I was 10 freaking years old without a misstep. My uterus sheds its wall with utter joy every month like clockwork. Suddenly, I was being mocked. It was suggested I was either pregnant or I was perhaps beginning menopause or peri-menopause. Well, I know for a fact I'm not prego unless it is divine intervention. I'd like to think God would make a better choice than this vessel for bringing a new savior onto this planet. I mean, find a virgin, if you can, but I digress. Next, I reached out to my Mom, who is as good, if not better than WebMD, and I asked her. She advised she started menopause when she was 45 years old. Well, right on schedule, here it was. What the hell?
I considered what this means to my life as I know it now. What it mostly means is that I am old. I'm dried up. I'm pretty much waiting to die. Best years of my life are gone. I mean, in a nutshell, that is kind of the big picture. Of course, the only way to truly know what all this means to me, is to Google menopause.
First things first, if you are going through menopause or think you are, DON'T Google it. Just don't. I am more depressed now than I was before. Turns out this is what I have to look forward to:
Vaginal Dryness...my girl bits are going to be dry? One "friend" said, "oh yeah, you're going to be dry, dry, dry...so dry it will hurt to pee." Another alleged friend said, "KY and Vodka, problem solved." Seriously? I don't need to maintain a slip-n-slide environment down there, but sweet Maryanne, I don't want to have a dried up raisin vagina.
Hot Flashes and Night Sweats? Yeah, I have already been experiencing that. I woke up like three times last night stuck to the flannel sheets like fruit leather. Sometimes at work my face and neck are bright red and I'm on fire for no reason. I thought I was just pissed about the stupidity of humanity, but now I know there is an actual medical reason.
Sleep Problems? Got 'em. That is what Benedryl, Nyquil, alcohol and Xanax is for, I guess.
Mood Changes? I asked Shark Bait (Shit, do I have to change his blog name now? Will the madness never end?) how he felt about me becoming more moody or bitchy. He just scoffed and said, "I've been in training for this our entire relationship, I don't see a problem with this." I think he just called me a bitch, but on the other hand, I'm thankful I've put the time in preparing him for these alleged Golden Years.
Weight Gain and Slow Metabolism? FUCK YOU. That is all.
Thinning Hair and Dry Skin? One person advised me that my hair will thin, but then I will get rogue thick hairs in places I never had them before and likely do not want them now. I'm going to be scaly and hideous. I'll look like some sort of river monster they find in the deepest rivers of Africa.
Loss of Breast Fullness. This is a joke right? I'd have to have breast fullness before I can lose it. If I don't have it now, what will they do? Invert? Dry up? I mean, this really could not be any crueler. I'll have to put two cutlets into each bra cup instead of one? Should I just wear nipple covers and tape them against my chest?
I just don't know what to make of all this. I know this is all survivable. I know a bazillion women have gone through this. I mean, I'm probably going to be okay. I'm already unstable, so I can't see there will be much the general public will notice, but I can't help but feel like this means I am saying goodbye to my youth. I get that my youth is long gone, but this just affirms it. I can be in denial as long as shark week comes each month. I also wonder, why did I waste my 20's and 30's not being a whore and living life and running amuck and living la vida loca? My friend, Hearty Babe, pointed out that the level of activities in my 20's & 30's does not make up for anything that is or isn't happening now. I guess that is true, but I'd have the memories. My then slippery vagina would have memories. Now, the old raisin vagina is just gonna be like, "is that another tumble weed? I remember when the river flowed through this valley..."
Sigh. So, anyway, thanks Mother Nature. I appreciate your gift this year. I'll just be over here feeling tired and bitchy with my dry skin, male pattern baldness, four forehead hairs, some unsightly two foot long wire-like chin hairs, saggy water balloon boobs, fatter than ever body sweating while my vagina feels like someone glued it shut with super-glue. I'll be fine. I'll just cut out coupons for KY jelly and hit up the booze aisle at the grocery store.
I will say this, one thing that menopause cannot take from me is my love for chocolate. You can't take that from me, Menopause. You can take the hair and the moisture from my body, but you will not take my love of chocolate! I will live my days out as comfortably as I can. Chocolate will be there for me, even when my skin flakes off on a windy day and my wiry chin hair stabs me in the eye. I got this. Me and Chocolate. Together forever. Fighting menopause...one day at a time.
I leave you with this parting advice, my friends... If you have youth, enjoy it. If yours already left you...go buy some chocolate and seriously, if it hurts to pee, get some lubricant.
About a week or so ago, I started experiencing rage beyond what I normally experience. Rage to the point my boss said, "Why don't you go home...as a matter of fact, GET OUT. I say this with love, GO HOME NOW." Hmph. Wimp. The height of my rage is when shit gets solved and world problems are discussed in an open and honest forum. This was no time to go home. THIS was the time to hash some shit out. However, there is this whole workplace appropriate thing and honestly, you really can only use variations of the phrase "Mother Trucker" so many times before people get all sensitive. Not everyone is as hearty as me and frankly, it's a damn shame.
Anyway, I did what I always do when my bitch switch is stuck on high, I checked my Period Tracker app. Well, turns out things were late. I'm never late. Not since I was 10 years old have I been late. That's right, you wonder why I'm such a bitch, I've been dealing with this shark week thing since I was 10 freaking years old without a misstep. My uterus sheds its wall with utter joy every month like clockwork. Suddenly, I was being mocked. It was suggested I was either pregnant or I was perhaps beginning menopause or peri-menopause. Well, I know for a fact I'm not prego unless it is divine intervention. I'd like to think God would make a better choice than this vessel for bringing a new savior onto this planet. I mean, find a virgin, if you can, but I digress. Next, I reached out to my Mom, who is as good, if not better than WebMD, and I asked her. She advised she started menopause when she was 45 years old. Well, right on schedule, here it was. What the hell?
I considered what this means to my life as I know it now. What it mostly means is that I am old. I'm dried up. I'm pretty much waiting to die. Best years of my life are gone. I mean, in a nutshell, that is kind of the big picture. Of course, the only way to truly know what all this means to me, is to Google menopause.
First things first, if you are going through menopause or think you are, DON'T Google it. Just don't. I am more depressed now than I was before. Turns out this is what I have to look forward to:
- Irregular periods
- Vaginal dryness
- Hot flashes
- Night sweats
- Sleep problems
- Mood changes
- Weight gain and slowed metabolism
- Thinning hair and dry skin
- Loss of breast fullness
Vaginal Dryness...my girl bits are going to be dry? One "friend" said, "oh yeah, you're going to be dry, dry, dry...so dry it will hurt to pee." Another alleged friend said, "KY and Vodka, problem solved." Seriously? I don't need to maintain a slip-n-slide environment down there, but sweet Maryanne, I don't want to have a dried up raisin vagina.
Hot Flashes and Night Sweats? Yeah, I have already been experiencing that. I woke up like three times last night stuck to the flannel sheets like fruit leather. Sometimes at work my face and neck are bright red and I'm on fire for no reason. I thought I was just pissed about the stupidity of humanity, but now I know there is an actual medical reason.
Sleep Problems? Got 'em. That is what Benedryl, Nyquil, alcohol and Xanax is for, I guess.
Mood Changes? I asked Shark Bait (Shit, do I have to change his blog name now? Will the madness never end?) how he felt about me becoming more moody or bitchy. He just scoffed and said, "I've been in training for this our entire relationship, I don't see a problem with this." I think he just called me a bitch, but on the other hand, I'm thankful I've put the time in preparing him for these alleged Golden Years.
Weight Gain and Slow Metabolism? FUCK YOU. That is all.
Thinning Hair and Dry Skin? One person advised me that my hair will thin, but then I will get rogue thick hairs in places I never had them before and likely do not want them now. I'm going to be scaly and hideous. I'll look like some sort of river monster they find in the deepest rivers of Africa.
Loss of Breast Fullness. This is a joke right? I'd have to have breast fullness before I can lose it. If I don't have it now, what will they do? Invert? Dry up? I mean, this really could not be any crueler. I'll have to put two cutlets into each bra cup instead of one? Should I just wear nipple covers and tape them against my chest?
I just don't know what to make of all this. I know this is all survivable. I know a bazillion women have gone through this. I mean, I'm probably going to be okay. I'm already unstable, so I can't see there will be much the general public will notice, but I can't help but feel like this means I am saying goodbye to my youth. I get that my youth is long gone, but this just affirms it. I can be in denial as long as shark week comes each month. I also wonder, why did I waste my 20's and 30's not being a whore and living life and running amuck and living la vida loca? My friend, Hearty Babe, pointed out that the level of activities in my 20's & 30's does not make up for anything that is or isn't happening now. I guess that is true, but I'd have the memories. My then slippery vagina would have memories. Now, the old raisin vagina is just gonna be like, "is that another tumble weed? I remember when the river flowed through this valley..."
Sigh. So, anyway, thanks Mother Nature. I appreciate your gift this year. I'll just be over here feeling tired and bitchy with my dry skin, male pattern baldness, four forehead hairs, some unsightly two foot long wire-like chin hairs, saggy water balloon boobs, fatter than ever body sweating while my vagina feels like someone glued it shut with super-glue. I'll be fine. I'll just cut out coupons for KY jelly and hit up the booze aisle at the grocery store.
I will say this, one thing that menopause cannot take from me is my love for chocolate. You can't take that from me, Menopause. You can take the hair and the moisture from my body, but you will not take my love of chocolate! I will live my days out as comfortably as I can. Chocolate will be there for me, even when my skin flakes off on a windy day and my wiry chin hair stabs me in the eye. I got this. Me and Chocolate. Together forever. Fighting menopause...one day at a time.
I leave you with this parting advice, my friends... If you have youth, enjoy it. If yours already left you...go buy some chocolate and seriously, if it hurts to pee, get some lubricant.
 |
| 45 and holding...until I dry up. |
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