I’m Old and Cranky Now, AND a Menopausal Asshole? Fuck.
Hint: you can always tell I’ll be bitching about menopause if I mention it in the intro. Guess what? This post is about menopause — again-YAY!
I actually found the perfect quote to describe how menopause makes me feel. The shitty part is this quote comes from a woman dying of cancer, as told by Yvette Gouthro Alongi’s Medium blog.
Well, I love a good cup of tea, but I need my coffee. And when someone gives me a cup of tea at their house that’s not good, I don’t go back.
Well, that’s a bit harsh.
Well, I might go back, but I won’t drink their tea. I’ve become the cranky old woman who’s dying. I don’t have time for shitty tea and I don’t have time to pretend that I do.
I feel like such an asshole relating to this quote. But I haven’t had time for shitty tea in years, and I can no longer pretend that I like the tea.
Menopause is kind of crazy like that where it gives you an instilled false sense of confidence based on your bravado and ability to wreck a wall into thousands of bits. It manifests as impatience. Impatience becomes irritability. And then the menopausal dragon cycle takes hold and it repeats. But it’s frightening, because the process operates and works me on a subconscious level, and appears to iterate and refine itself so as to be maximally effective at destruction.
I am the backseat driver to my own train wreck. I don’t know who is driving, and she won’t let me take control. I sit as a passenger, witness to the chaos I am causing, and am helpless to do anything. My brain says “Whoa bitch, pump the brakes!” But whatever’s in control of my brain just says
FUUUUUUUUCK ITTTTTTTTTT.
How fucking weird that puberty was about creating life, now all I want to do on menopause is destroy. It’s a high, it’s an addiction to a drug I never wanted to take. It has been forcibly shoved down my throat.
I fucking hate menopause.
