Archives for category: Menopause

It is quiet here at the side of this trail in the darkness. It is early, before sunrise. It is autumn, chilly but not cold. Everything around me is wet from rain during the night. The clouds are dense and the sky quite dark, no stars shine through.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I breathe in the chilly fresh damp autumn air, grateful to breathe easily, thinking my thoughts. The freedom to walk safely in the darkness in the wee hours is precious and I make a point to savor it. I have no reason to expect that I’ll always have such freedom. It’s a strange world, and very few things are truly lasting certainties. So, I sit here contentedly for a little while, just being. Grateful.

The night was a difficult one. I sigh to myself, from frustration, or impatience, or maybe because life itself is often difficult. It could be so much worse. I practice anchoring myself to this moment here, now. It is quite a pleasant one, and it happens to be the one I’m in. Handy.

I breathe, exhale, and relax.

I hope my beloved gets the rest he needs. It is hard on him too when I am having a bad night.

Yesterday was tiring. My annual wellness check with my GP was fine. I’m in good health for my age and considering my history that’s impressive (to me). I got my flu shot. Convenient. It’s a long drive away, though, and I was tired by the time I got home. I shared a quiet evening watching videos with my Traveling Partner. All very ordinary and happily mundane.

… I’ve been having bad dreams, more or less nightly, for awhile now. Dreams of war, of chaos, of having to “mask up” in response to some threat of chemical or biological warfare then discovering the chemical agent is inside the mask… Rough. Worse are the more abstract dreams. How the hell is a dream of a “rainstorm” of strangely sticky confetti a “bad dream”?! I have no idea. What does a dream of blood going down a drain actually mean? Lucid dreaming practices sometimes help me find my way out. Waking up is a reliable way to stop a bad dream, though it does not prevent them lingering in my thoughts, sometimes for days.

This morning I’m tired but clear headed. It’s enough to get by on. The weekend is coming. I am hoping to spend much of it in the studio. How do I most easily put a nightmare to rest? I paint its picture. It is a peculiarly personal way to exorcise my demons.

A sprinkle of rain begins to fall. I get to my feet to begin again.

In spite of it having rained through the night, this picnic table I’m sitting on had a dry spot pretty much just the right size to comfortably sit for a few minutes. I can see the full moon peeking from the clouds as they drift past, under this natural awning of evergreen boughs. Nice spot to sit awhile in the pre-dawn darkness. I turn off my headlamp and enjoy the quiet moment. Somewhere in the distance I hear traffic, and the sound of human endeavors.

“Enjoy it while you can.” I think to myself. The world is messy and complicated and frankly a little scary. Talk of curtailing banking regulations that explicitly protect consumers and the potential withdrawal of approval of the fucking polio vaccine just terrify me. (Why would anyone even want these kinds of terrible changes?!) Not gonna lie – these are trying times, and I feel it. I make a point to take time to sit, to reflect on the things in life that matter and bring me joy, and to feel gratitude for the many advances humanity has made. The risks and problems that plague us all too often get all the attention.

… It’s important to give myself a break from all that…

I grin in the darkness, swinging my feet like an excited child when I think about Giftmas. The holiday is almost here! The shopping is done. Presents are wrapped and waiting under the tree. I’m eager to share that joy with my Traveling Partner. It’s good to see his progress as he continues to recover from his injury and subsequent surgery. I find myself “missing the man that he was” much less often, because I find him standing beside me once again so much more often, now. Feels good. Feels safe and encouraging. I fucking love this man, and he has become part of me. I’ve been tremendously worried for the past year, and it feels good to finally feel some relief from my fear and worry, and to feel truly hopeful again.

The moon appears again, fat and round and luminous, as if to say “I see you”. A spattering of raindrops fall from the branches overhead, shaken loose by the breeze. My heart feels full of goodness and hope and gratitude, and it’s a lovely feeling to start the day with. I glance at the time. It’s a work day. Time to get back on the path and head back to the car. Time to begin again.

I’m sitting in the car, parked at the trailhead of a favorite trail. I’ve got a cup of coffee, and I am sitting in the predawn twilight listening to the rain and feeling the wind rock the car. I’m hoping for a break in the rain as day breaks, it’s sort of the point of being here so early on a Saturday morning, but I don’t honestly care one way or the other. I’m mostly out here at this hour hoping my absence gives my Traveling Partner a chance to sleep in after a restless night, without me clattering about the house.

The winds toss the big oaks on the hillside and scatter their leaves. The rush and roar of the wind reminds me of other times and places. Strangely moving, although I don’t really get why. I sit here weeping quietly. The marsh birds seem to be enjoying the currents, eddies, and updrafts of the stormy winds. I’ve got a decent view and content myself with sitting quietly and listening to the rain fall, spattering the car.

It’s Veterans Day. I think about “then”. Complicated memories. I pause my thoughts to wonder if I am always so sad each year when it comes around, but I can’t recall with any certainty, and I’ve shredded all my old journals, and I don’t have many connections that have known me long enough to say. I did bring along extra tissues. If nothing else, I knew I would be feeling blue today. I let the tears come.

A huge flock of Canada geese passes overhead. I think of my Granny, and find myself missing her greatly right now. I miss her strength, perspective, and wise counsel. I miss her laugh. I miss long Sunday morning drives, and walks together down country lanes.

My head aches and the tears keep coming. I let them. Eventually I will either venture out for some time on the trail (if the rain lets up), or I’ll dry my tears and put on “my public face” and do the grocery shopping before I head home. My arthritis continues to feel “worse than ever” this year, but acknowledging that I am struggling with a bout of depression, I have to wonder if it’s just amplified by misery and sorrow? Would I feel better if I just felt better? Seems likely but I don’t know what to do about that.

As the sky lightens without any hint of sunshine, mumurations of migrating flocks rise up from the marsh into the winds. The car continues to rock with the strongest gusts. The grasses and shrubs flutter. Storm flung leaves fall onto the car along with the rain. It’s all very Autumn. I sit enjoying the stormy weather. It’s appropriate to my mood. I’m alone here, and no one will be made uncomfortable by my tears. They fall as steadily as the rain. I take them no more personally than raindrops, since I don’t even know why I am crying.

I sit thinking about how best to have a nice time with my Traveling Partner, without burdening him with my bullshit and baggage, or carelessly mistreating him because I am in a shitty mood. How best to comfort and support him, nurture the relationship, and look after hearth and home without denying myself the same care and consideration…? What to share and what to “save for therapy”? How to be kind when I feel wounded? How to work through the chaos and damage without creating it for my partner? How to refrain from taking things personally that sure feel fucking personal sometimes? I’d very much like to be a better person than I am. I know I am a better person than I once was. Like a child on a long walk, I find myself crying because it just feels too far.

… A harsh inner voice griefs me yet again over self-pity and catastrophizing utterly mundane real-life bullshit that everyone probably goes through at some point. I don’t stop crying, but I do take notice of how incredibly unkind my “self talk” often is. I should probably work on that. I’d feel better if I did, most likely. I know where it comes from, and I understand it to be all tangled up with my challenges with internalized misogyny – a result of so many crushingly cruel, diminishing, or abusive relationships of one sort or another with male human beings (and male-dominated institutions). I don’t know what guided the path I took that brought me here. Perhaps it just seemed easier to nod and smile and try harder to be one of the guys? There were (and are) some real benefits to being that woman. There has been a real price to pay. This shit isn’t unique to my experience.

… I could do better…

The rain keeps falling.

There’s grocery shopping to do. Meals to plan. Thanksgiving is coming and I’d really like to feel thankful when it gets here. The laundry has piled up – which should have been a clue that I was spiraling down. There are outside chores to prepare the house for winter, this weekend. There are paintings as yet unpainted and new recipes to try. There’s a precious relationship to work on and holidays coming. It feels like so much and I am fearful that I am not up to the challenge… I can only do my best.

I guess I’ve got to begin again.

Better. Things are somewhat better now than they were earlier. This one is 100% “a me thing”. Menopause. Emotions. Age and aging. Frustration. Just the basic slop of being human, female, over 60, and a big ol’ basket of broken shit and fragments and wreckage, emotionally speaking. Having a trauma history has got to be one of the most human of things, and it’s probably a rare individual who manages to make it past 50 without any hint of trauma. If we don’t experience legitimate damaging trauma, chances are we’d make some up. Also? I have a fucking headache. I woke up with it, hours ago… it’s with me still. Very human.

I took my headache to the store and bought goblin snacks for the upcoming holiday. Fun. Still have the headache. Drinking water. Relaxing. Doing my best. All the things.

There’s nothing much more to say about the shitty start to the day. I enjoyed a pleasant walk and then “crashed my hard drive” later – metaphorically. Wasn’t quite a tantrum. Could have been much worse. Wasn’t my best moment. Blech. Adulting is harder than it seems like it could be, sometimes.

I’ll just begin again, again.

Sometimes I still feel like I’m fighting uphill. Arguing with shadows. Spinning my wheels. Sometimes shit just feels too hard. Even (especially?) the stuff I think “should be” easy.

Fuck I am frustrated and tired. My head hurts. I just wanted…

… doesn’t matter, it didn’t go down like that. There’ll be other times, other moments, other chances. I just wasn’t expecting things to be so damned difficult in this particular instance.

I know, I know, there are practices to practice and I can begin again. Fighting back pointless stupid tears.

… Sometimes I just miss things that were once so easy…

Stay on the path. Your results will vary.