Warning: I’m about to get a bit TMI. Turn back now if you need to.
As we all know, (or should, at least,) when women reach a certain age, things tend to get a bit…odd. Maybe a little unbalanced. Maybe even a touch unpleasant. At least, that’s what I thought. That’s what I was taught in every biology class. Even the polite older ladies in my life hinted that changes would one day come and they might not be the best. So, you know, a genteel decline in certain biological processes would happen. Fine. I expected it, even welcomed it, because what are these changes but the eventuality of being a human woman. That is what I was told.
But no one, and I mean no one, told me that things can go beyond that and enter the world of coocoo-banana pants-awful. That is where I am right now.
If you had asked me at any point during my life between age 12 and a maybe earlier this year, I would have told you that I sometimes had it rough. Oh, I didn’t feel good. Oh, I had some cramps. Oh, I was a little weepy for no reason. You know, the same thing most women go through*. But if you had ever told me that I would get to a point where I would gladly lie in bed with a heating pad on my abdomen and Midol coursing through my bloodstream at almost toxic levels, I would have told you to shut your whore mouth because you were a liar.
Guess what though…I’d take that heating pad/Midol combo in five seconds at this point if it meant I could just feel normal a couple of days later, because it has been a LONG time since I felt anything close to normal.
I mean, the emotional toll is one thing. What sort of biological joke is it to wake up one day and think...huh, why does no one love me? Why do I feel useless? Why have I done nothing with my life? Why don't I want to do anything? I have all of these hobbies, but none of them bring me joy anymore, so I keep buying supplies in hopes I want to do them, but they just pile up on different surfaces because I can't bring myself to do any of them. Why do I feel like crying all of the damn time? Why do I make other people miserable because my stupid brain, already riddled with OCD and abandonment issues, makes me question whether or not the people who DO stay around me even want to be there? So when I question that, they get mad. I didn't used to be like that! Even in my most PMS-iest of days, the worst I ever wanted to do was beat someone with a loaf of French bread, but now I'll have spells where I feel like the most alone person who has ever aloned? Like I am a void in the shape of a person.
The mental toll? Let's add all of those things I just mentioned and then make it so I can't think of words in the middle of an actual conversation. So not only do I feel awful, I can't use my own dang words to express how I feel. There used to be certain words like "refrigerator" and "filing cabinet" that I couldn't think of on a regular basis for some reason. Now it's words like "shoe" and "headache" and probably a whole dictionary worth of other ones that I can't think of right this second! Imagine having a conversation and the person you're speaking to just goes blank. I fucking BUFFER when I'm talking to someone! It's so embarrassing! I also have zero motivation to do anything. I have to bribe myself to get out of bed by telling myself that I can get right back into bed after coming home from work. Nothing sounds interesting, but when something DOES sound interesting, it isn't interesting enough to make me want to do it. Sometimes I just go to bed because that's the only thing that sounds good. But then I wake up a thousand times during the night with the most God-awful thoughts running through my head. It's like someone shaking me awake just so I can think of every bad thing I've ever done. It's so exhausting, but not exhausting enough to put me to sleep apparently. When I'm not mentally doom scrolling, my brain is fuzzy and sticky, like it's full of gum someone dropped on the carpet.
Now, I get it. All of that sounds like depression, and maybe that could be part of it, but I've been depressed to the point of being medicated for it before, and this somehow feels different. This feels mean. Like something out in the universe doesn't like me and has put my voodoo doll in a shoebox filled with mud and buried me in the backyard but left just enough of a gap in it so I can see the outside world. Maybe I am being cursed by a very vindictive and very inexperienced witch, and I don't like it.
But even with all of those things, the physical toll is by far the worst damn thing I'm dealing with at the moment! I am always, always, always tired. Always. I'm jumpy to the point where doing normal things feels terrifying. I'm hungry and then not hungry, and then hungry again but the only thing that sounds good to eat is junk food (which I shouldn't eat, but do) and then that makes me feel awful. My body is doing all the stupid things that happened before, except for the important thing that usually marked the end of the unpleasantness. Don't worry, I'm not going to get any more graphic than that. I've gained weight in places that I've never gained weight before! I literally gained 10 pounds in 40 days, and that shouldn't even be possible for me. My skin is being weird. How do I have super dry skin, and still have breakouts? How do I end up with random chin hairs? Why do I look like all the color in my face and hair is just draining away? I had to dye my hair! I hate dying my hair!! But if I didn't, it looked like I was turning invisible! Also, I'm starting to look my age! Do you know how odd that is for me? I've never looked my age before! It's body horror every time I look into the mirror!
But the thing I hate the most? The hot flashes. The Mother. Fucking. Hot. Flashes.
I hate being hot. Being hot makes me violent. I live in the south, so I know what being hot feels like, but this is something else. This is something sinister. I will be sitting in my chair, or lying in the bed, and a tactical nuke goes off in my chest and melts my face off. THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE. I get hot, then I get cold, then I'm sweaty, then I have to take off my clothes so that I don't burst into flames. A no pants day now and again is fine, but that should be because I want to and not because every cell in my body is going through fission. All of this happens with no warning, at work, in the car, at home, in bed. I will try to power through it, but I literally feel like I'm on fire. I have told my GP about it, and she told me what to take OTC for it, and I did, but it doesn't work anymore. You know that volcano lady on the movie Moana? I am her. I am melting and full of lava and anger and I hate every second of it. I've even managed to be cold and hot at the same time, which makes my brain short circuit. I have to sleep with ice packs! This is not a thing that should happen!!!!! To top it off, the one doctor that I had that could properly address the situation freaking RETIRED and then I had to find another one and couldn't get an appointment until March! For the love of God and all his angels.
So right now I'm a big, mopey, lumpy, sizzling hot (and not in a good way) person who feels like an alien has invaded my body and didn't read the owner's manual before taking it for a test drive.
But other than that, I'm fine!
Hope things are going well with you! :)
*I know every woman is different. Some have issues, some don't. I'm generalizing here.
