I haven’t written a post in a while and that’s because I have been afraid to, because I know it will end up sounding like a whine.
But, BUGGER it! I shall have a whine!
I’m a mess.
I don’t know if it’s starting on this HRT, things adjusting themselves, you know, or the combination of all the supplements I’m on…or the low iron thing or the dicky thyroid thing but my GOD, do I feel like a basket case!
I’m no stranger to anxiety. It peaked for me as a teenager (and just when the hormones were all topsy turvy then too.) So it shouldn’t be any surprise that after years of reprieve that now, as the hormones once again surge and roil and flounder around like beached whales on the shores of my sanity (ha….and I thought I’d lost the ability to write!) …well, hello again stranger. Nice to feel you once again in the pit of my belly, churning around, dancing like butterflies…..keeping me awake at night and waking me up at unearthly hours, and just generally hijacking my mind.
I feel sorry for my husband, I really do.
I am NOT a nice person to live with at the moment. In fact, some psychotic bitch has moved into our house.
The real me is bound and gagged somewhere, wrapped in plastic, hidden in a cupboard somewhere….not QUITE dead, but slowly suffocating.
And this is NOTHING! (so they say)
Just PERI menopause… not yet the full blown fully insane part yet.
My teenage daughter suggested to me that I go and find a menopause forum, you know….so I feel less alone.
I have been there….I have seen….and it is UGLY.
There’s something I haven’t yet experienced.
Now I’m just paranoid. Waiting for it to hit me….a head zap!
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT! (Can you imagine?)
As if hot flushes and cold sweats, leaky bladders and bugs crawling under the skin aren’t bad enough, but to contemplate the possibility of my own brain giving me self inflicted shock therapy is almost too much to bear.
No, I can’t visit those forums. Sorry. It’s too scary.
Right now, under the influence of PMS I am in full on organisational, “I need to move things around in the house” AGAIN.
It’s just what I do.
I crave chocolate, and I move furniture round and throw stuff out.
Oh, and I sometimes break down and cry and scream and rage and say really shitty things to the people I love the most.
But…I’m not losing hope…and they mustn’t either.
This WILL get better hey?
They made me fudge.
Life always feels better with a bit of fudge…
Even IF my “health nut always on OUR case about eating healthy” teenage daughter DID eat almost half that plate of fudge ALL to herself! I can’t believe she did that!
PS….this is what my one eye looks like at the moment.
If ANYONE has advice for dry eyes……PLEASE let me know. Fudge did not help.