menopause SUCKS

well friends, i am not gonna cushion this. menopause sucks. my therapist says to transition easily you need to allow yourself to let go and "ride the wave" but it's a wave of shit and my phases are all messed up because i am supposed to be enjoying the rich sex life that age and experience and estrogen give you in your thirties not applying cream to my cooch and laying sleepless in bed feeling so electric i want to crawl out of my skin.

getting through this bull shit with my leg has taken every single coping mechanism i have in the bag. this medication takes them away from me. and it's hard to get through an illness when you have not even a string to hold on to.

so what they say is true my lady friends. things that used to make me feel annoyed make me feel infuriated. i can't sleep. my skin, my body, my privates are dry. i can't eat a warm meal with out breaking out into a sweat and turning bright red (hot flashes are so fun). and it's always pleasant to wake up at 3 am in clothes that are so wet you feel like you just took a shower in your clothes. and you are hot but also cold.

the doctors say this is worse than the real deal since mine was chemically brought on over night and the real deal comes over over 10 years.

i hope that's true. because i seriously don't know if i can do even another week of this let alone six weeks.

lll

day: 67 of mono.

there has to be a better way.

i think i need to leave my job.

stop

stop following me around in these circles. don't tell me about how it gets better. don't pretend that not having to jog makes it okay to not have two working legs.

it is spring time and i miss little things like being able to walk these streets. my bike. the run.

the doctors are concerned and there don't seem to be any easy answers. just drugs with miserable side effects (like menopause - it's a long story) and surgeries that include too many surgeons. too many hands.

and again and again i need you and again and again you are not there.

and i would rather sit alone with this. (sit because i can't stand. if it were up to me i would do everything in a run).

and it's not up to me. and i am not frida kahlo.

but i just may end up being the one who leaves before she knows what she has done.

and really

there is no guarantee that any of us will survive.

that thing before.

i am not going to try to convince you.
i am not going to bang my head against your wall.
i don't care what is true.

there is sunshine and a list of lies.

there is rosemary bread and a bag of dried peas.

i have let bygones be and i have turned the other cheek and
i do what i say i am not going to do
'cause fuck i am only human.

i have tried but i can't stop being me.

promise me your curses and i will close my eyes.

i am trying

i am trying best i can.

but it is hard to work at an office full of stairs when you have a dead leg and mono.

i am more than tired. i am more than exhausted. i have spent months in bed with visiting nurses and attendants to clean me. i have spent weeks in the hospital on heart monitors watching day time television on a tiny tv. i have been sick before.

but this is hard.

this sunday is the ms walk. i have been doing it for years. this year i will be watching from the finish line with all the other handicapped people. and no one is walking for my disease. and there is no power in being left behind.

why oh why can't i...

some days i remember that night a couple weeks before ivan took his life. i called him and he didn't answer but instead texted me that he really wanted to talk but he had friends over. he said he would try to get them too leave. he texted me at 2 am that they were gone and asked me to call him. i heard the phone, woke up, and told him i was too tired. i left for europe a couple days later and we didn't speak again - just a couple of texts. he stopped taking my calls.

and all i can think is that i had a chance. he gave me a chance.

and i blew it.

and it feels like suffocating every time i think of it. these things are no ones fault but maybe it was a little bit mine.