You may ask yourself what are menopausal writing moments?
A. Men pause over your shoulder as you write.
B. A pause or frequent pauses in writing.
C. Sudden hot flashes designed to pause your ability to think clearly and write cohesively.
D. Answers B & C.
E. All of the above.
A year and a half ago my doctor stated I had gone through menopause. I sat a little taller and carried a smug smile on the inside. My body had slipped through the gates of menopause without fuss or fanfare.
Two months ago I discover my doctor lied to me. I’ve always been a late bloomer and I should have known better than to believe the words of a male doctor, who at best may try and force his imagination to wiggle through the porthole into the world of hot flashes, brain fog, sharp personality shifts and restless nights of sleep. In reality, I question if he could ignore the tidal wave of heat rushing through his body; endure the dense haze infused into every crevasse of his brain; overcome the frantic, manic and split personalities so quick to emerge and take over, and still march through his days in perfect pitch and beat.
I am humbled to join the ranks of the women who have gone before me into the world of menopause and have come out survivors.
From my vast experience of eight weeks, writing through a menopausal moment equals a walk down death row and no amount of premium quality chocolate will halt the mission. I’m not here to give you advice on writing and menopause. I’m here to gather all I can from others and hope my brain can collect said information into a cohesive, understandable formula I can recall at will or at least within a twenty-four hour period.
This menopause gig started out as a silent assailant. What once claimed a firm stage on my frame now sags, droops or has moved south permanently. The exchange of smooth, tight skin is being replaced with loose wrinkles and flab. Once youthful freckles are now age spots. My hair has begun to turn white in areas on my body I didn't realize changed color. (If necessary I can draw a diagram.) I’ve also located wild hairs growing in frightening places. The other day I pulled a curly black hair out of my left ear. I don’t believe God intended for a black fur patch to develop in the female auditory vestibule. If I start growing more wild hairs than men, I’ll be forced to dive into a vat of estrogen and buy stock in the company.
A few years before our dog’s death the vet told us she was going through menopause. Today, through new eyes, I find myself better understanding that difficult time in her life and embraced a new bond in her memory. I even adopted a kindred spirit with her until I remembered she began lifting her leg on occasion to relieve herself. I’ve decided it’s not wise to attempt to compare yourself with a member of the animal kingdom. Yet, there are times when the desire to claw at someone grows strong.
If today’s blog has left you feeling heated and cheated of learning anything valuable in the realm of writing please join me in a menopausal moment. I’ll not elaborate further, except to say, where is the pause in menopause?