Okay, okay, I’m here. Coming out of my shell. Blogging. Good grief, I'm blogging? I didn’t even know what the term meant until just a couple of months ago. Chillymama had to explain it to me. In detail. Using small words.
I’m a 49ish woman who, for lack of a better (and more succinct) term, basically up and died about 5 years back. Life blew up in my face, and I, as any sane person would, retreated to the bomb shelter. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t such a sane decision after all. One’s mental bomb shelter is sort of like being institutionalized; you get used to it and forget what daylight looks like.
Part of what brought me out is menopause. Maybe that sounds weird, but when the symptoms hit with hurricane force and I felt like I was on the verge of going completely crazy AND about to die, I found I didn’t want to do either. Surprised the hell out of me. Some primal thing deep inside rose up and fought back. I still don’t know if I’m winning the battle. Maybe.
Isn't Menopause like The Ultimate Cosmic Practical Joke? Lord! And then, I marvel that it was invented by Mother Nature. Really? Are we sure? One woman would do this to another? On purpose?
Don’t get me wrong, I like being a woman. But, being a female has its pain in the ass moments. Way back when, at the ripe ol’ age of 14, I had the winning combination of a flat chest, greasy hair, puberty plague, growing hair in places I didn’t think it was meant to grow, while possessing all the maturity and social graces of an iguana. Then suddenly, Whammo! it’s here! Which meant tender boobs, zits that bloomed and spread like dandelions, and periods that ruined every pair of undies I ever owned. Lost my virginity (ouCH) at 15, to the wrong guy, for all the wrong reasons. Got married years later, conceived and passed two bowling balls, one of which was backwards, the other, upside down and backwards. Hello, stitches. And do you have a really soft pillow I can sit on perhaps? Oh, thank you. 6 weeks to sex, did you say, doctor? (frightened look) Umm, er… Oh wait, lookee -- a severe uterine infection. Nevermind. And :sniff: golly, isn't that an unforgettable aroma.
Ten years pass, and what do you mean that pain I feel is my uterus falling out? How can it just fall out? Isn’t it attached or something? Several months later: Hello doctors’ office? – yes, it’s in my underwear now. Surgery? Why YES, thank you, I’ll be right there. Hi again stitches. Long time no see.
So I haven’t had a period for eons. Thank heavens for small miracles. But then, just when I get to remembering how to be an adult again (health is good, kids are grown, I can pursue a career wholeheartedly), here comes a curveball: Night sweats, hot flashes, 5 hours’ sleep max (leaving me to roam the house like some cranky ghost at 3:00 A.M.), mental fogbanks, and joy of joys, I’m once again sprouting hair in places I never thought possible.
Puberty Backwards, x 10. Ain't life full of surprises.
As to what Chillymama was talking about in her post re: our idea -- I was off on the internet recently, looking for sites for women over 40. I didn’t find much, (well, porno sites), except for 1) a gardening site with a rather static menopause forum thrown in for good measure, 2) a lot of ‘expert psycho-speak’ and 3) sites aimed at boomer women who go to spas and seem to have a plethora of disposable income. What’s out there for the rest of us not-so-rich people? Anybody know of a place? Because, if there’s no comfortable central place/site/store out there, we were wondering if there was enough interest to create one.
???
As for sex. Hmm. I wonder where I left my instruction manual ….
In the meantime, I live vicariously thru Chillymama and her honey's exploits. So Chilly, blog away, darlin’. Tell us, tell us …
