Category Archives: Perimenopause

Writing Prompts

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Writing Prompts

When you feel vulnerable everything is a writing prompt. Sometimes the thoughts just swirl in my head, marinating until they become a somewhat tasty morsel that spills onto the screen. Not enough for a meal but, with any luck it leaves you hungry for more. Most times though, those prompts just wither on the mental vine. Here are some seeds that are lying on the bare ground, waiting for neglect or nurture to determine their fate.

Backstage Pass

My father is in the hospital again. He’s been in several times this year for various illnesses. We aren’t close and that’s not likely to change. He was out of my life from when I was 9 until sometime in my 30s. Too late for strangers with nothing in common to cling to – I say that with sadness, not hostility. We’ve both made attempts to bridge the enormous obvious gap, we just haven’t found the right the platform.

I find out about his health via group texts from his longtime partner. She’s devoted to him and very kind, which is comforting. It’s just awkward. The man had 7 kids from two marriages. I’m the first born but last in the pecking order. When I do get informed, it’s like having a backstage pass for an act you don’t know.

What’s Normal?

My kids recently went back to school and I feel myself being consumed by my own anxiety for them. I’m outing myself in the hopes that it will get me to ease up a bit. I have two teenagers and I can’t help myself, I think of what I was doing at their ages. Then I wonder, is it normal for parents to do this? If you’re a parent do you reflect on what you were doing when you were the same age as your child? Seriously, this is not a rhetorical question, I don’t know what’s normal.

For the Ladies

You ever get your period and think “Oh that makes sense” as you flashback to the night before when you ate half a chocolate cake and contemplated life with a new identity.

Hospice

A friend asked me how I deal with the mental mind f*ck of caring for people on hospice. This is what I wrote to him:

Hospice is a weird thing. I think what draws me in is the lack of bullsh*t. The small stuff and pettiness that most humans get tangled in tends to fade away when someone has a newfound awareness of how finite our time is here. I appreciate that level awareness and honesty and I get into a – do the next right thing modus operandi. It’s more difficult with people you know versus volunteering for strangers. I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing though, one of the benefits of a dysfunctional upbringing.

There is also a curiosity that pulls me in. I kind of want to know what it’s like at the end of life – I mean, we’re all going to die one day, yet people rarely discuss it. Or maybe my twisted brain thinks…if I am a witness and a helper for so many at the end of their lives, perhaps I’ll be granted a swift departure when my time comes. I don’t want to be subjected to weeks or months of Depends and really dry, chapped lips. So basically what I’m saying is….there is no way to delay the existential head f*ck, you just have to lean into that motherf*cker.

 

 

 

*Featured image used via agreement with 123rf.com image is Copyright of Sila Tiptanatoranin

 

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Demanding to be Seen & Heard While Wrapped in the Cloak of Invisibility

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Demanding to be Seen & Heard While Wrapped in the Cloak of Invisibility

A recent Facebook post in a group for midlife women asked members to comment with their term for the phase in life between ages 45 and 55. For the record, the author of the post prefers midlife meltdown. Up to this point I hadn’t thought of anything original until I read the post and subsequent comments. I let it marinate.

First I reflected on this phase as a work in progress with more self acceptance than prior decades. Some members were elegant – metamorphosis, renewal and awakening were tossed out like flower petals on a soft meadow. One of my favorite responses was the “F*ck it phase”. I gave it some more thought and landed on the title of this post – “Demanding to be Seen & Heard While Wrapped in the Cloak of Invisibility”.

I recently turned 50 so I am in the sweet spot of the poster’s demographic. I find myself balancing opposite ends of the spectrum – acceptance/discontent, reclamation/ surrender, clumsiness/grace. In short, it’s a mixed bag. I am aware of my short comings, of the finite amount of time we all have and yet there is this spark, indeed a renewal of sorts.

In collective society I have become less visible. This happens to women as the radiance of youth is replaced by the fine lines of wisdom. Once the skin suit we inhabit becomes less appealing to the masses, we blend in until we are barely visible.

Here’s an example, our family used to frequent a local restaurant where they immediately recognized us and would (without asking) bring our favorite appetizers. It was our Italian version of Cheers (everyone knew our name). The same people that owned the restaurant also owned a pizzeria. I would stop in from time to time for take out. The owner rarely recognized me when I was by myself. In fact, it happened so often that he actually acknowledged the oversight. I suspect it happened because I wasn’t attractive to the point where I would stand out or unattractive enough to register in this man’s memory without my family to provide cues. I simply blended into the woodwork.

That never happened in my 20’s or 30’s. It’s a jagged pill to swallow especially if you relied on your looks in your youth. I was aware of the perks of being an attractive young woman but I never fully appreciated the power, I miss it.

Like a lot of women, I fell into a bit of a cliché. I was a upwardly mobile career girl who transitioned into a SAHM in my mid 30’s. When my kids were headed toward middle school the internal panic started.

1) What have I done?

You put your family first, not yourself. That bit about putting your oxygen mask on first in the event of an airplane emergency….you didn’t do that. Tsk, tsk, too late to dwell on it.

2) What will I do now?

Should I go back to school? I already have my BA…what industries are hiring? If I spend X amount on education how long will it take to recoup that and do I have time? Will I go back to school, incur debt and be unable to get a job? What contacts do I have from 2003?

This cycle of self-doubt and reflective reasoning is the stuff of insomnia and panic attacks. It’s painful and no one can walk you through it. People can make suggestions and offer guidance but it’s your brain on the hamster wheel at 3am.

3) Will anyone hire me now?

Maybe, maybe not. Another Facebook group of women were recently discussing ageism in job interviews. One women was considering dying her hair because she thought it would help her odds of getting hired. Others try cosmetic surgery, injectables and most shave decades of experience off their resumes to make the math more difficult for a potential employer. Ageism is real, combine that with a large gap of employment and it doesn’t paint a pretty picture. I volunteered for a local hospital for 10 years and could not even get an interview for a data entry job. Eventually I started my own business because it was that or retail.

Many of us wake up at some point and wonder all of the “what ifs” and decide some changes need to be made. I’ve noticed this in myself and others, there is a certain burst of energy and creativity that comes at midlife. Whether it’s writing, painting, sculpture or throwing yourself into a charitable cause or activism, ladies tend to get revved up in the middle. I don’t know if it springs from a new well or one that was previously blocked by fear and expectation. I suppose it doesn’t matter because I jumped in without knowing the answer. That has been the gift of this phase, the willingness to dive into previously uncharted waters.

 

 

Photo credit: Copyright: <a href=’https://www.123rf.com/profile_yuliialypai’>yuliialypai / 123RF Stock Photo</a>

Wrinkles, Zits and Hot Flashes…..Oh My!

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Wrinkles, Zits and Hot Flashes…..Oh My!

I’m at the tender crossroads of life somewhere between; the downward slide into decrepitude and moody perimenopausal bitch on wheels. It’s lovely and by the way gents you may want to look away, shit is about to get real. Very real in a mid-life-lady-no-longer-has-fucks-to-give kind of way. You’ve been warned males – ladies lets sip some chamomile (or scotch, no judgement zone here) and bitch about the lady days for a bit.

The things I HATE about perimenopause or whatever the fuck this is:

  1. The well meaning people that tell me to sip tea and take supplements. Shut up…..please just shut up. I want chocolate, Advil, a dark room and a nap. Do not try to hug me I may punch you in the face, hard.
  2. PMS has become……apocalyptic at times. Not every month, I mean God forbid something about this female cycle be predictable. Sometimes the mood swings are INTENSE like “The Three Faces of Eve” intense.
  3. Aunt Flow. I am so sick of bleeding y’all. Really enough already. My actual period vacillates somewhere between an annoying but ever present slow faucet drip to Niagara Falls. The first three days are the worst. So bad that the “spray” from my oozing lady parts has landed in odd places – under the toilet seat, on the floor, on the G-damn wall (yup, you read that right). I doesn’t seem like the laws of physics would allow for this level of splatter but I assure you it is the truth.  There have been times when I just wanted to put the yellow crime scene tape around my bathroom and call in the experts for clean up.
  4. Hot Flashes. I have only experienced these during the day on a few occasions and it’s quite impressive when it happens. One time the heat started on the back of my neck and I suddenly found myself with a literal hot head, sweat and all. What physical activity brought this on….uh, none. I was typing at my desk when all of a sudden…..
  5. Night Sweats is the asshole cousin of Hot Flashes. While I haven’t spent much time with Hot Flashes…..Night Sweats and I go steady. I sleep with that bitch every night, right next to my husband…..because I am a whore like that. Seriously, if you haven’t experienced this pleasure yet here’s a description: you awake in a head soaked puddle of your own bodily fluid (sweat), drenched pillow, hair like Medusa. The cure – go pee for the third time that night, come back to bed and flip that pillow over. Repeat this cycle however many times you pee in a given night until your pillow has turned into an overflowing sponge….then replace the pillow or the the pillow case….or steal your husband’s pillow if necessary…..because, men.
  6. Sleep Disturbances – Better known as insomnia and this little motherfucker is the worst. There is a reason why sleep deprivation has been used as a form of torture because………it is actually a very effective form of torture. The echos of sleep loss bleed into the next day which is why insomnia is such a dick. I can usually make it through the next day sans sleep until about 4pm and then I am replaced by Satan.
  7. Urinary urgency or the need to pee (all the time) with the most intense urgency occurring just before you fall asleep. This really kicks in as I am laying my head down on the pillow (prior to a soaking due to night sweats). There have been many evenings when I have gotten out of bed to pee 4 or 5 times within 30 minutes. I know it doesn’t seem possible that one could go so frequently within such a short time span, it’s true. I promise I’m not guzzling gallon jugs of coffee or Gatorade within an hour of bedtime. It’s a head scratcher.
  8. Fatigue. How unexpected is this…..really?! You have night sweats, frequent urination, insomnia and mood swings tag teaming to kick your ass all day and night. Of course we are tired, duh! Ladies if you have ever been pregnant you probably remember the wave of exhaustion that can overwhelm you during the first trimester. I get a lesser version of this during PMS. Of course it isn’t predictable because PMS is an asshole like that.
  9. Skin changes. Here is my complete thought process on the skin changes….wrinkles and zits should not coexist on the same face, ever.
  10. Sex drive changes. This runs the gamut friends. Some ladies have no desire for sex – could be due to vaginal dryness or painful intercourse or maybe they just can’t stand their man/woman/vibrator, I dunno. My issue is on the opposite extreme. I find myself sexting my husband and taking him into the walk in closet for quickies. I am like a 12 year old boy watching girls gone wild for the first time.
  11. Aches, pains and other signs your screwed for the next 5 days. Period cramps – check. Gents if you’re reading this and why the fuck would you be reading this….imagine that you swallowed a small spiked ball and it is rolling around your innards, that’s what cramps feel like. Oh and bonus round if you get the it-feels-like-I-got-stabbed-in-the-eye headache.

No seriously, is there something sticking out of my eye? Ladies, feel free to rant in the comments.