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With the slow descent into madness at a certain point one gives up fighting. Just let it happen. Bend like a reed in the wind…  I’m not complaining mind you; just observing. All the creams, pills, exercise, and meditation will not stop this freight train. I don’t exactly mind it because there is some relief in knowing what the hell is going on. The terror is when you can’t find that relief. Don’t kid yourself, its terror. And don’t listen to your friends unless perhaps they give you a hug and agree its like surfing Mavericks when you can barely boogie board.

One thing is for sure, its different for everyone. We could have the same ills but mine more extreme than yours. We can try the same potions but yours make your skin look like new while mine looks dull and lifeless. Insomnia? Acne? Short term memory loss? I’m okay with all of it…I don’t have a choice

It’s just those moments when you simply don’t know what to do with yourself. The chores pile up, the work goes unfinished; you manage one or two things and thats it. Call it a day. Its a bad acid trip man. Its taking mushrooms with the person you hated most in high school. It’s getting your period on your first date, vomiting after too many Bacardi and Coke’s…uh its missing trash day and its having anxiety over the dumbest things you can think of. Its utter and total madness. And I’m not going to berate men for how they handle what women go through. I give them a pass. I didn’t at first – but boys will be boys and thats why I like them. The sensitive ones cry too much and I want to be the crier. Plus eventually their pee pee’s stop working and we have some revenge for them asking us if we are on the rag, etc.  We aren’t alone on the journey.

And then (they say) it goes away. Poof! Voila! Normalcy reigns once more. Or some version of normalcy.

Reading blog after blog, medical site after medical site ultimately leaves you with nothing. I read some whiny blog about how Gen X women have it worse during midlife and I wanted to strangle the writer. Mostly because it was a pointless bore but all it did was remind me of the women before me and all they endured. Every generation of humanity suffers a variation on a theme. The human condition is fucked up but its all we know. We have it worse? Oh shut up and tell my grandmother about your issues (you can’t she’s dead and besides she would just offer you some See’s Candy). Hell, try it on my mom – she’ll set you straight. Show some respect for those that have come before you and stop the complaining. For the love of God please!

But I digress. Sure its nice to know you are not alone. Truly in most situations none of us are really alone. What I mean is most of us have experienced a lot of the same things. Some discuss it, some don’t. The ones who do tend to rub your face in what you have or haven’t done. The worst are the women that deny it all. Who are they kidding? It’s funny how thin the veneer really is.  So at the end of the day one just has to white knuckle the bastard and hope you make it out in one piece on the other side.

It’s that scary boat ride with Willy Wonka so eat as much chocolate as you want, drink yourself silly (responsibly please), be that curtain twitcher (one of my mothers better monikers for me), say no, say yes, say you just don’t know. Get angry, get sad, get nutty. And remember, it will happen to Beyonce too and it won’t matter how good her wine collection is.

I’m riding this bitch of a wave and I’m going through the rinse cycle (thats when you get caught in the undertow of a wave and can’t find your bearings…or air) ready to hit the rocky shore with my big beautiful ass in an ill-fitting bathing suit. Avert your eyes…NEXT!

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