Ch ch ch changes

I don’t know how menopause came to be called the change of life, but it’s apt.

Besides the physical changes going on in our bodies, there are the life transitions as well. Whether it’s the empty nest, aging or dying parents, retirement or whatever, nothing stays the same.

I thought menopause might be like going through puberty backwards, but I was wrong. For one thing, puberty only lasts for 7 or 8 years. I’m going on 12 to 15 years, depending on how you count it, with no freaking end in sight.

Probably the best known symptom of menopause is the irritability. Psycho-bitch might be closer to it, but I find males experience this as well. Menopause is blamed for a normal reaction to losing the ability to do things as easily as you once did. Whether it’s remembering words or being able to open a jar, it’s fucking frustrating to not be able to do what you once did.

The Golden Years – another of the big lies.

Humans do not like limits. Never have, never will. We will never, ever, admit that we cannot control every damn thing we want with no adverse consequences. We want to live forever, to look and feel young forever. Somehow, some way, we get sold on the idea that life isn’t a terminal condition.

But after you hit 50 years of age, reality sets in. Sooner or later, everyone over the age of 50 starts to think about death more than ever before. Sooner or later, you start to hear the clock tick.

Since I never suffered fools gladly before, by the time I was 55, it seemed silly to include fools in my life on purpose. There is a definite “stripping away” process; of trying to reduce clutter or background noise or non-essentials away to just be able to see or imagine what is real and essential. This may or may not be greeted with enthusiasm by the other people in your life.

At 50, you’re halfway, if you believe the actuarial tables. I don’t believe I’ll see 93 (I don’t even want to), but 75 might be within the realm of possibility. So yeah, that offers a bit of clarity when you hear the clock ticking that loudly.

All of these things are happening at the same time that a psycho has taken control of the internal thermostat, drying skin and itching becomes uncomfortable, sleep becomes elusive, and you don’t look like you once did.

Women experience aging a bit differently than men, because appearance plays an entirely different role for women than men. That is a topic for another day.

I’m the luckiest woman in the universe, though. I’ve stripped away a lot of crap in my life and am embarked on the grandest experiment of all…..writing my last chapter. So far, so good.

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