MEN o PAUSE

Menopause. 

My name.  Woman on PAUSE  I came up with it due to Menopause.  I hit it early. 

I hit Menopause at 29.  Technically “Premature Ovarian Failure.”

For all of you ladies out there, I can explain menopause in the following bullet points.

  • God Hates Woman
  • Hot Flashes:  Being reminded of summer (in Summer) gentle winds of heat roll over you from the inside like an oven opened and then your face and chest submerged at 550 degrees.  Turned every hour.  Must baste in own sweat. 
  • You fan yourself with anything you can find.  Paper, magazines, mailmen, dogs, lemurs, fences…
  • Night Sweats: Sleeping calmly and having a dream where you are dipped in hot oil.  Waking to find that the dream was better than the sweat driven insanity you are in at that very moment.
  • Having an emotional roller coaster that envies Disney Tea Cups while on fire.
  • The only plus, No periods.  But because you are so young you assume you MUST be pregnant and spend $485 dollars a year on pregnancy tests.
  • Googling menopausal pillows while yet to get a grey hair.
  • God Hates Women.

 

There are literally a thousand other items I can list here, but these hit on the core of the hell that is menopause.  I am Post Menopausal, if Post means, 8+ years with no end in sight.  God bless those still pre-menopausal.  Enjoy the ride. 

 

Lesson today, don’t get old.  The benefit resides only in the fact that you can now avoid the baby/tampon/feminine isle.

I have the body of an 80 year old.  Please try and contain your jealousy.

0000011111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 <————  This was from my cat sitting on my mouse.  You become a crazy cat lady as well.  They sense your failing fertility.  They dig it. 

As Always,

 

Woman on Pause

Rock the Bells…

I was reading the site, “Jezebel” yesterday and ran across an article about how the teflon on non-stick pans can cause Early on-set menopause.  All the commenters were, “Woot woot bitches, bring that shit on!” or “I can’t wait until I get this and my periods are gone, yay!”

I read through them, actually flipped off my iPad, tossed it onto my bed, and exclaimed very loudly, “Fuck you bitches you have NO CLUE.”

And they don’t.  While I am now off the ledge of my disdain I do recognize that they don’t realize exactly how crappy it is. 

Do I miss my period.  Hell Fuck no. 

Do I miss sleep? Hell yes I do. 

There is no sleep to be had.  A solid three months now and I haven’t slept through the night yet.  Maybe once, but I had a couple of cocktails and I don’t think that counts.

I can deal with the hot flashes. (Hot flashes being the day equivalent of menopausal torture.)  I mean, they are nauseating in their severity and I have to dress in layers and fan myself with random items, ie mousepad, plastic kitchen place mats, my hand, the mailman, whatever I can grab.

But at night, you are defenseless against the God forsaking soul crushing heat that comes over you and causes ever square millimeter of your skin to pour sweat.  POUR.

Note: Not me.  But this is how soaked I am from these damned things.  She makes it look sexy to be sweaty.  I make it look like I ran a 10K in the Mojave, then just put my clothes on afterwards and went about my day

This blows.

Last night, my dreams were syncing to each night sweat.  I dreamed that when I got home, depending on how many bells were hanging on my house that was how bad the flash would be.  One day one bell, another day three…

Then at the end of the dream, I came home and there were thousands of bells stringed up around the outside of my house.  I gasped, woke up, and realized my hair was soaking wet.  Entirely naked, threw the covers off, took my poor sleeping husbands hand and said, “FEEEEEEL THIS, aaaaaaaugh, this is horrible, aaaaaaugh, fuck me I’m hot.” As I drug his hand over my head, neck and cleavage.

Poor guy.  This man deserves a medal for putting up with this mess.

Is there a theme or cutesy way to end this blog? 

No.

Just know, as we speak I am sweating and my skin throbs and if I have to take my scissors and cut out my medulla oblongata or thyroid, or pituitary or whatever it is that is jacking up my internal thermometer then I may just have to do that.  I am 33 and still, as always, WAY too young for this shit.

Just sayin.

As always sweaty,

Woman on Pause

*Fans self*

Picture Credit: http://www.sodahead.com/fun/the-underwear-oracle-quiz/question-1298129/?link=ibaf&imgurl=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3391/3586783422_2bd852b2e1.jpg&q=sweaty%2Bwoman