I try to not be all that interested in politics, but when there is an upcoming election that creates so much hype in the media.... I tend to get sucked in. I am fully aware of the candidate selection this time around and I have to say that I am not all that impressed with both political parties. If Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are the best that they have to offer.... I am a little scared for the future of this country.
With all the mainstream media reporting almost everything that is happening in this political race for the White House and the title of President of the United States, I am actually shocked that the reporters have not given updates to when these candidates do the most mundane of things like when someone got a haircut or visited the restroom facilities. That dissection of every word said and every rebuttal made is starting to get to be a little much.
Discussions being made everywhere I go, questions about personal opinions of the candidates, and where we think the outcome will be is getting to be a little much. Conspiracy theories flying faster than the speed of sound being flung to every wall within flinging distance with the hopes that something will actually stick seems to be the rage. The blissfully ignorant masses thinking that their vote will actually count while their suspicious and bitter counterparts spew negativity in retaliation to those that still try to grasp onto the American dream with both hands. The self-righteous belittling those that think outside the average box and would love to be able to color outside the lines once in a while. Hard-core political party followers, blindly following their candidate even though they disagree with what is left of a choice for the presidency.
I recall hearing from a friend that the state of Illinois is so deeply rooted with the Democratic party that if a Republican candidate that was perfectly able to handle an office position, ran against a grilled cheese sandwich that was running for the same position... the grilled cheese sandwich would still win. How sad is that? Not exactly sure if having a grilled cheese sandwich as president is necessarily a bad thing because really.... how much damage to the economy can a sandwich do? Of course, the theory of a sandwich running for any political position is ridiculous, but the point does run true when the Democratic candidate is not exactly the best qualified for the job. What makes this even more ridiculous is when the selection process leaves us with both choices being the ultimate buzzer with a, "sorry, wrong answer", feel to them. Here are my thoughts....
While Hillary Clinton has some political experience, it is built upon the greed of power and off of the backs of others that proceeded her. Her husband is the closest link to political greatness and when he could not keep it in his pants and created a scandal with in intern.... this wife of his stood by his side after being completely humiliated when the proverbial crap hit the fan. Ask any other woman out there that happens to be married of she would stay with a man that publicly made a fool of her if she would have stayed and I guarantee you that she would have hit the speed-dial for a really good divorce attorney. While there are some that can look beyond indiscretions that are not public knowledge and put in the effort to stay together.... it is the one that had their situation be highlighted on every news report for months that seems like she felt that love conquers all? I am a little baffled about that. What her actions, or rather non-actions did was put her under a microscope to see her reasoning and that was seriously pointing towards this woman's hunger for power. Of course, there is the recent events of her email debacle and national security being at risk. Not exactly who her friends in high places are, but there seems to be some seriously shady things being swept under the rug for her. What managed to make me scratch my head the most was the speech at the Democratic National Convention where our current president, President Obama, announces that Hillary is more qualified to handle the job as president than both he and her husband, the past President of the United States. It seemed not so long ago, Mr. Obama and Mrs. Clinton bashed heads and cut each other down in debates back in 2007 for the race to the White House, and now they are best of friends. I just find it curious of the change in opinions.
Now, we have a business man and all-round fame-grabber named Donald Trump running for office. While his political aspirations seem to be more philanthropic and with a desire to change the political machine, I even have my doubts about this candidate. Not that he has zero political experience, but his behavior is less than stellar. His marriage track record is astounding, to say the least. Seems like he treats marriage like a car lease and gets a newer, younger and more attractive one after so many years. I guess he is a firm believer in what Illinois Governor Rauner has been fighting for... term limits. Besides looking like a complete hound dog to the masses, he also lacks having a filter when he speaks. Sure, we are all in the same boat that everything has gone down the chute, but telling people that he is the answer without an inkling of a plan is not so comforting. I will give Mr. Trump credit where credit is due.... he is spending far less in campaigning because he is utilizing the free press to get his message across. I have not seen a campaign ad on TV that is apparently approved by this candidate yet and the day to vote is almost here. This man has been building hype for at least 30 years with his political aspirations and has stuck to his methods the whole time. Not once wavering on his beliefs. The main thing that concerns me is his boisterous way of reacting first and retracting later. He may be sarcastic about some things, but in a time like this, with the future going into someone's hands for the next 4 years.... I am not all that confident that the mess we are in is going to improve.
With this in mind, let me recap my thoughts every time I get asked about who I would believe should be President.... Hmmm..... do I support someone that is power-hungry and seen as a criminal that falls through the cracks? Or do I support a person who speaks their mind and then retracts their statement when the masses take him literally. Both are dangerous. A criminal or a self-professed D-bag? Tough decision here. I guess we should take a longer look at the running mates before deciding because I fear that who gets elected is going to get shot and the future president could be one of them. Maybe that is their plan all along.... send out a political sacrifice. Food for thought.
Well, off to do something more productive than think about stuff like this. I happen to have a very cynical view on the election process and most likely, my vote won't make a difference. The Electoral College has power to overrule the popular vote anyway. I fear that the decision was made a long time ago after the primary election, so my not bothering to put a stamp of approval on a candidate that I have virtually no confidence in is just fine with me. Vote of you feel differently, but I am over-tired, over-taxed, and less than confident that things are going to go up from here. Have a good day!
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Friday, August 19, 2016
Sticking it to the scale.....
That darn contraption that sits on the floor of my bathroom has struck again! This time, it was not me, but DD. My heart breaks for her and I happen to blame myself.
The reason I blame myself is a simple one.... I have not been setting a better example for her in respects to my own health. Not all of it is my fault. I cannot control the hormonal shift and the weight gain that comes with it. I cannot blame myself for the stress that I am going through that creates that belly expanding cortisol that plagues me. Sure, I happen to have some control over what should be stressing me in order to control the chemical gain that is happening under my skin, but the constant battle is very tiring and very trying. I really do not have a support system in place to help with the burden because DH has his own concerns that even he refuses to share with me and with my Ms. Fix-it mentality, it would only add more to my already overflowing plate of concerns. My job is tough enough with the need to at least earn a paycheck. Being on commission is hard and I have learned to roll with the punches as best as I can, but I know it will never be enough. I am only human, you know.
With the expectation of what is considered beautiful to look at as well as the expectations of what a healthy weight is supposed to be, there is a lot of pressure for people to conform to these expectations. Especially, in the eyes of a teenager. A person of my (cough, cough) age, does start to not really care anymore about their weight. Especially, when the cards are stacked so well against them. I'll admit it... I like food. What is unsettling is the need to have more variety in food because DH and his perpetual food jag of sorts that limits us to the category of foods on the food pyramid that is under, "consume sparingly". Of course, I happen to have a sweet tooth and a serious love affair with carbs. Knowing this and doing something about it is just as appealing as getting a root canal without anesthetic.
So here I am again.... preparing to take the hard road to attempt to at least hover near the expectations of a goal weight that I have had in mind for years. The last time I managed to achieve my goal weight after a little fluctuation in my 20's almost killed me. I became sickly and sick all the time because I went from one extreme to the next. From eating what I wanted to not eating at all. Looking back, I did have the serious threat of having an eating disorder. In fact, I still do to this day. It is those times that I just don't pay attention that I seem to feel my healthiest and rarely ever get sick. It is almost like I have been destined to always carry a little extra on me. Case in point.... My first round with Weight Watchers resulted in a 45 pound loss of weight, but at the expense of getting two root canals, multiple rounds of bronchitis, and the removal of my gall bladder. What was sad is that I still had more weight to lose back then. All it took was for a plateau of epic proportions to not let me lose another pound, yet that plateau also did not allow me to even gain a pound, either. That was pretty cool being able to go rogue on that lifestyle plan and not see a change on the scale. Sadly, I quit Weight Watchers and continued on my rogue path, not watching that gradual weight gain happen until I gained almost half what I lost back. When I returned to Weight Watchers, thinking I could finally lose weight again, I ended up with a body that just flat out refused to drop the weight like it used to the first time around. Feeling defeated and not wealthy enough to keep paying to go to meetings, I quit again, but with the determination that if I followed the plan on my own, I could at least win at losing on my own terms. Needless to say.... I really hate that scale in my bathroom and have not stepped on it in years. I can see my failures in the mirror every morning. I don't need a scale on my floor to tell me that this madness needs to stop. Knowing that I will have to flip my thinking from food lover to food hater is what should tell you that I tend to go a little extreme. Especially, when I put a time limit to where I should be in an unrealistic light. Major recipe for disaster is all I can say about that.
With that in mind, I watched DD break down in tears last night. She was with her boyfriend and he took a picture of her. Upon showing the picture, he told her she looked so cute and all she managed to see was that she gained a little weight. It got the waterworks flowing. Thinking DD's boyfriend did something wrong, I immediately starting asking questions to what happened. DD shut me down, as usual, but her boyfriend managed to calm her with a hug and some supporting words I could not hear from across the room. It was after her boyfriend left to go home, is when she came to me with her concerns. I immediately went on the defensive and asked if her boyfriend said anything to have her think she was fat. She said, "no". In fact, he said he would support her in helping her achieve what she wants to achieve in any way that he can. Even with going with her to exercise after school in the school gym. I think that his gesture to support her in the process that she wants to take is probably the sweetest thing I have seen from him besides him having my back when she gets defiant regarding her inhaler. That kid sometimes does not want to miss the fun by taking a moment to use her inhaler when she is wheezing.
It is actually humbling as well as comforting that these two kids are open to talking to me about things. I seem to know her boyfriend pretty well and I know that he would never say DD looks fat in anything. He always points out how beautiful she is and makes it his life's mission to make her smile. I believe with him in her corner, cheering her on, she can do great things. Luckily, she is stubborn like her father and determined to boot, and will get that weight off in no time. I'll admit it... I did see a little bloat going on around her middle, but not enough to freak out like she was freaking out.
I did see, my youth replaying right in front of me. That insecurity and that desire to be thin and pretty like the models in magazines. That placing your self-worth in the hands of the number on the scale or the size of my clothes. That being attractive was solely based upon a number and not who I am as a person. Yep, been there.... done that multiple times and I still feel that way about myself. I just don't know how to create a confident child if I lack the same confidence, but I am going to give it my best shot. I am joining DD in sticking it to the scale. We are going to revamp the system we have been working with. There will be a day solely focused upon planning everything to the last detail when it comes to food. Food scales and measuring devices are going to be in the spotlight, as well as choices not becoming options anymore. The Weight Watchers Food Nazi needs to come out of retirement in a serious way and I think I can make it stick because I am doing this with and for someone I love unconditionally. I just hope that my cheerleader abilities can handle giving myself a little pep talk while I cheer DD on to success. I am currently not my biggest fan and there is an age gap between DD and I. She has youth on her side. I have menopause to deal with. My expectations need to be more realistic that I have a far harder path to take, with a far more stubbornly slow metabolism. I just need to keep my eyes on the prize for her and hopefully, I can also be a winner at losing... weight, that is. I have to remind DD that this journey is going to be a hard one when her favorite foods are going to be cut back.... way back. That love of carbs and sweets are going to be severely reduced.
My journey is going to be a little different than DD's, though. I am going to still refuse to have a relationship with that bathroom scale. I am going to step on once a month instead of once a week in order to gauge my progress and even with that.... I cannot put full stock in that number. I am placing more of my faith in how my clothes will be fitting. I will one day be back in those jeans that I had when I lost that weight from the first time I was on Weight Watchers. In fact, my ultimate wish is to make those jeans from my thinner time feel a little loose when I am done. While those jeans have a size number on them, I am not focusing an numbers for this journey. I am focusing on feel and I no longer want to feel ashamed in my clothes, and what I mean by ashamed is by wearing smocks to work all the time that cover me to my knees, or over-sized shirts with yoga pants as my clothing choice to go out in public. I want to hold my head up high and feel good about myself. I want DD to become a confident person in her own skin, but I also want her to not place her worth on external appearances. I want her to have a healthy relationship with her body and by showing her a reasonable lifestyle of choices, I think I can help her break the desire to be so focused on numbers and placing her self worth with those numbers. Someone needs to break that chain and I believe I can help. I need to get my head in the game and stay in the game this time around. Wish us luck! It will be a tough one. Maybe DH will ease up with his limited food choices and join us. One could only hope, right? I just hope I can make this work with food choice roadblocks all over the place.
Thanks for reading! Have a great day!
The reason I blame myself is a simple one.... I have not been setting a better example for her in respects to my own health. Not all of it is my fault. I cannot control the hormonal shift and the weight gain that comes with it. I cannot blame myself for the stress that I am going through that creates that belly expanding cortisol that plagues me. Sure, I happen to have some control over what should be stressing me in order to control the chemical gain that is happening under my skin, but the constant battle is very tiring and very trying. I really do not have a support system in place to help with the burden because DH has his own concerns that even he refuses to share with me and with my Ms. Fix-it mentality, it would only add more to my already overflowing plate of concerns. My job is tough enough with the need to at least earn a paycheck. Being on commission is hard and I have learned to roll with the punches as best as I can, but I know it will never be enough. I am only human, you know.
With the expectation of what is considered beautiful to look at as well as the expectations of what a healthy weight is supposed to be, there is a lot of pressure for people to conform to these expectations. Especially, in the eyes of a teenager. A person of my (cough, cough) age, does start to not really care anymore about their weight. Especially, when the cards are stacked so well against them. I'll admit it... I like food. What is unsettling is the need to have more variety in food because DH and his perpetual food jag of sorts that limits us to the category of foods on the food pyramid that is under, "consume sparingly". Of course, I happen to have a sweet tooth and a serious love affair with carbs. Knowing this and doing something about it is just as appealing as getting a root canal without anesthetic.
So here I am again.... preparing to take the hard road to attempt to at least hover near the expectations of a goal weight that I have had in mind for years. The last time I managed to achieve my goal weight after a little fluctuation in my 20's almost killed me. I became sickly and sick all the time because I went from one extreme to the next. From eating what I wanted to not eating at all. Looking back, I did have the serious threat of having an eating disorder. In fact, I still do to this day. It is those times that I just don't pay attention that I seem to feel my healthiest and rarely ever get sick. It is almost like I have been destined to always carry a little extra on me. Case in point.... My first round with Weight Watchers resulted in a 45 pound loss of weight, but at the expense of getting two root canals, multiple rounds of bronchitis, and the removal of my gall bladder. What was sad is that I still had more weight to lose back then. All it took was for a plateau of epic proportions to not let me lose another pound, yet that plateau also did not allow me to even gain a pound, either. That was pretty cool being able to go rogue on that lifestyle plan and not see a change on the scale. Sadly, I quit Weight Watchers and continued on my rogue path, not watching that gradual weight gain happen until I gained almost half what I lost back. When I returned to Weight Watchers, thinking I could finally lose weight again, I ended up with a body that just flat out refused to drop the weight like it used to the first time around. Feeling defeated and not wealthy enough to keep paying to go to meetings, I quit again, but with the determination that if I followed the plan on my own, I could at least win at losing on my own terms. Needless to say.... I really hate that scale in my bathroom and have not stepped on it in years. I can see my failures in the mirror every morning. I don't need a scale on my floor to tell me that this madness needs to stop. Knowing that I will have to flip my thinking from food lover to food hater is what should tell you that I tend to go a little extreme. Especially, when I put a time limit to where I should be in an unrealistic light. Major recipe for disaster is all I can say about that.
With that in mind, I watched DD break down in tears last night. She was with her boyfriend and he took a picture of her. Upon showing the picture, he told her she looked so cute and all she managed to see was that she gained a little weight. It got the waterworks flowing. Thinking DD's boyfriend did something wrong, I immediately starting asking questions to what happened. DD shut me down, as usual, but her boyfriend managed to calm her with a hug and some supporting words I could not hear from across the room. It was after her boyfriend left to go home, is when she came to me with her concerns. I immediately went on the defensive and asked if her boyfriend said anything to have her think she was fat. She said, "no". In fact, he said he would support her in helping her achieve what she wants to achieve in any way that he can. Even with going with her to exercise after school in the school gym. I think that his gesture to support her in the process that she wants to take is probably the sweetest thing I have seen from him besides him having my back when she gets defiant regarding her inhaler. That kid sometimes does not want to miss the fun by taking a moment to use her inhaler when she is wheezing.
It is actually humbling as well as comforting that these two kids are open to talking to me about things. I seem to know her boyfriend pretty well and I know that he would never say DD looks fat in anything. He always points out how beautiful she is and makes it his life's mission to make her smile. I believe with him in her corner, cheering her on, she can do great things. Luckily, she is stubborn like her father and determined to boot, and will get that weight off in no time. I'll admit it... I did see a little bloat going on around her middle, but not enough to freak out like she was freaking out.
I did see, my youth replaying right in front of me. That insecurity and that desire to be thin and pretty like the models in magazines. That placing your self-worth in the hands of the number on the scale or the size of my clothes. That being attractive was solely based upon a number and not who I am as a person. Yep, been there.... done that multiple times and I still feel that way about myself. I just don't know how to create a confident child if I lack the same confidence, but I am going to give it my best shot. I am joining DD in sticking it to the scale. We are going to revamp the system we have been working with. There will be a day solely focused upon planning everything to the last detail when it comes to food. Food scales and measuring devices are going to be in the spotlight, as well as choices not becoming options anymore. The Weight Watchers Food Nazi needs to come out of retirement in a serious way and I think I can make it stick because I am doing this with and for someone I love unconditionally. I just hope that my cheerleader abilities can handle giving myself a little pep talk while I cheer DD on to success. I am currently not my biggest fan and there is an age gap between DD and I. She has youth on her side. I have menopause to deal with. My expectations need to be more realistic that I have a far harder path to take, with a far more stubbornly slow metabolism. I just need to keep my eyes on the prize for her and hopefully, I can also be a winner at losing... weight, that is. I have to remind DD that this journey is going to be a hard one when her favorite foods are going to be cut back.... way back. That love of carbs and sweets are going to be severely reduced.
My journey is going to be a little different than DD's, though. I am going to still refuse to have a relationship with that bathroom scale. I am going to step on once a month instead of once a week in order to gauge my progress and even with that.... I cannot put full stock in that number. I am placing more of my faith in how my clothes will be fitting. I will one day be back in those jeans that I had when I lost that weight from the first time I was on Weight Watchers. In fact, my ultimate wish is to make those jeans from my thinner time feel a little loose when I am done. While those jeans have a size number on them, I am not focusing an numbers for this journey. I am focusing on feel and I no longer want to feel ashamed in my clothes, and what I mean by ashamed is by wearing smocks to work all the time that cover me to my knees, or over-sized shirts with yoga pants as my clothing choice to go out in public. I want to hold my head up high and feel good about myself. I want DD to become a confident person in her own skin, but I also want her to not place her worth on external appearances. I want her to have a healthy relationship with her body and by showing her a reasonable lifestyle of choices, I think I can help her break the desire to be so focused on numbers and placing her self worth with those numbers. Someone needs to break that chain and I believe I can help. I need to get my head in the game and stay in the game this time around. Wish us luck! It will be a tough one. Maybe DH will ease up with his limited food choices and join us. One could only hope, right? I just hope I can make this work with food choice roadblocks all over the place.
Thanks for reading! Have a great day!
Saturday, August 13, 2016
I am not my biggest fan.....
You know... getting older is really for the birds! Oh, I feel pity for those birds that I apparently used that point of reference. Let's just say that I am not all that thrilled with this natural aging process. Here is why....
As I have probably mentioned in a previous blog entry, I feel that this topic is really stealing the spotlight in my life, but the hormonal shift (aka Menopause) is really kicking my arse. I swear, my clients look forward to my assessment of what hitting middle age is like for me. Besides DH being in the doghouse regarding his lackadaisical ways about fixing our crumbling house, I just seem to have this continual loop of knowing that I love this man, but I just don't like him all that much. Now add on the moody side of menopause and I actually fear for his safety. My latest "vindictive daydream" consisted of a brick of fireworks lit beneath DH's reclining throne to where he resides when he manages to be home with him in it in order to get him to wake up and fix the darn leaky roof and remove the water damage that is in my kitchen and seems to be migrating into my downstairs bathroom shower. Both these places share a common side of the house and just might be rotting away as I type this. He has tied my hands and refuses to let me seek out estimates for the damage. His thought process is that if it is out of sight, it is out of mind. He avoids any long visits to the kitchen because my audible sighs of disgust are not appealing to his precious ears. Only I get to endure watching my cabinets fall apart with no plans to get the problem truly fixed. Water damage behind the shower tiles could be because it gets wet in the shower, but it just seems to coincidental that it is happening directly in line with the damage to the kitchen one floor above. But still, he just refuses to notice it, thus refuses to look for estimates. Maybe I should go with plan "B" in the hormonal vindictive daydream.... Have his parents over for dinner and let them see the damage and get on his case to get it fixed since whenever I mention it to him.... he shuts me down.
Of course, I have experienced a new phase of menopause.... the moody side. At the beginning of this stage in life, I was only experiencing hot flashes and an occasional night sweat. Things seemed to settle down, but after a while, I started to feel like I was being attacked my smart mosquitoes. What I mean by smart mosquitoes is that they only managed to bite me in places that I cannot reach to scratch. Trust me, the intensity of the itch is based solely upon the inability of reaching to scratch. Can't reach it? It seems to itch more. 'Nuff said. But alas, when the moody "B" with a side of "itchy" came to play, I am seriously thinking I am going to lose my collective s#it. If I am not itching, I am sweating, and when I am slapped with both.... I am one mean mother....
Just a couple of weeks ago, I was not feeling like my normal, jovial self. I left work and headed home. When I walked in the door, I find a sink full of dishes, DD playing computer games, and no sight of DH anywhere. With dinner needing to be made, I mumbled and grumbled while I washed the dishes and began to prepare dinner. DD walks in to the kitchen, drops off more dirty dishes and is about to walk back out. I asked her where her father is and she informs me that he has not been home since he left this morning to go see his parents. Well, needless to say, that feeling I thought was "off" became a rage fest in my head. I was absolutely livid that DH was not home. I was beside myself that I spent the day working to come home to wash dirty dishes and start dinner without a moment to actually sit down and relax. I was disappointed in DD for not taking care of the dishes in my absence, but not all that thrilled when she felt compelled to add more to wash when I started filling the sink with soapy water without even making an attempt to be helpful after the fact. I was feeling unappreciated and with my crumbling kitchen, I felt another hot flash come. Then my skin felt itchy and I had this really strong feeling I wanted to hit DH with a frying pan when he would stroll into the house. Once DH did come home, dinner was done and I was an emotional basket case. I was mad that he was gone, but I was also mad that he came home. Not understanding why I would feel that way, I started crying and knew that if I did not leave the room I was going to go completely bats#it crazy on the next person that would even look at me. I ran down stairs and curled up on the couch and tried to deal with this sudden urge to yell at my family. Sadly, I couldn't find a cure for my mood swing and could not find a happy place for another 2 days. I grumbled and swore a blue streak (quietly) while rolling my eyes for two whole days at my family. Let's just say, I did not even want to be around myself and that is saying a lot. Once those two days were over, I knew that I was given the experience of menopausal mood swings. I thought that with this knowledge, I would be able to manage these mood swings better in the future, but it seems that I just can't get them under control. All my go-to distractions and diversions from less than positive thought are not working. I am not enjoying reading books and I am not all that motivated to do any bead work. I have had dozens of these hate everything and everyone phases and I am so not looking forward to how long this phase is going to last. I have managed to mask most of the mood swings when I am outside of my house, but I fear that people are starting to catch on that I am a woman on the edge. I might be sporting a sign across my chest telling people to duck and cover in my very near future.
Of course, my few night sweats experiences are changing to just miserable hot flashes that wake me up from a dead sleep believing my house is on fire. I am not sure, but I can only hope that my 3-4 hours of uninterrupted sleep a night is acceptable to keep me sane. I don't think I have slept a solid 8 hours in a couple years now. It is kind of like having a baby again with those late night feedings and changings, but without food and without a baby to tend to. Changing was mandatory those times I had a case of the night sweats. Now, I splash cold water on my face and go back to sleep.
One thought has come to mind.... I am not exactly fitting in my clothes like I used to. I did see the doctor and handed her my food journal and her answer is that regardless of what I eat, I am probably going to gain some weight. My stress levels are bordering off the charts and that creates cortisol and that just builds a bigger stomach. Menopause is just the cherry on that craptastic sundae with it becoming more difficult to actually lose weight, but easier to gain weight. I guess I can thank goodness for yoga pants now. The days of wearing jeans are a thing of the past. Bummer! I liked my jeans. I stopped going to my WeightWatchers meetings because those food Nazis were really wearing on my nerves, but at least I am still trying to adhere to the plan and that should count for something, right? I am still active, but I refuse to remain on a figurative hamster wheel every time I smell food. I am just so darn tired!
I do find it absolutely hilarious that with this unappealing weight gain, mood swings, and whatnot... I am having the most erotic dreams of my life. Go figure! That is, when I am asleep long enough to actually have a dream. Last night's dream was a doozy and I am keeping that one to myself. Sorry. *laughing hysterically*
Well, time to stop here. Thanks for reading. I hope I shared something funny or relate-able. Have a good one, folks!
As I have probably mentioned in a previous blog entry, I feel that this topic is really stealing the spotlight in my life, but the hormonal shift (aka Menopause) is really kicking my arse. I swear, my clients look forward to my assessment of what hitting middle age is like for me. Besides DH being in the doghouse regarding his lackadaisical ways about fixing our crumbling house, I just seem to have this continual loop of knowing that I love this man, but I just don't like him all that much. Now add on the moody side of menopause and I actually fear for his safety. My latest "vindictive daydream" consisted of a brick of fireworks lit beneath DH's reclining throne to where he resides when he manages to be home with him in it in order to get him to wake up and fix the darn leaky roof and remove the water damage that is in my kitchen and seems to be migrating into my downstairs bathroom shower. Both these places share a common side of the house and just might be rotting away as I type this. He has tied my hands and refuses to let me seek out estimates for the damage. His thought process is that if it is out of sight, it is out of mind. He avoids any long visits to the kitchen because my audible sighs of disgust are not appealing to his precious ears. Only I get to endure watching my cabinets fall apart with no plans to get the problem truly fixed. Water damage behind the shower tiles could be because it gets wet in the shower, but it just seems to coincidental that it is happening directly in line with the damage to the kitchen one floor above. But still, he just refuses to notice it, thus refuses to look for estimates. Maybe I should go with plan "B" in the hormonal vindictive daydream.... Have his parents over for dinner and let them see the damage and get on his case to get it fixed since whenever I mention it to him.... he shuts me down.
Of course, I have experienced a new phase of menopause.... the moody side. At the beginning of this stage in life, I was only experiencing hot flashes and an occasional night sweat. Things seemed to settle down, but after a while, I started to feel like I was being attacked my smart mosquitoes. What I mean by smart mosquitoes is that they only managed to bite me in places that I cannot reach to scratch. Trust me, the intensity of the itch is based solely upon the inability of reaching to scratch. Can't reach it? It seems to itch more. 'Nuff said. But alas, when the moody "B" with a side of "itchy" came to play, I am seriously thinking I am going to lose my collective s#it. If I am not itching, I am sweating, and when I am slapped with both.... I am one mean mother....
Just a couple of weeks ago, I was not feeling like my normal, jovial self. I left work and headed home. When I walked in the door, I find a sink full of dishes, DD playing computer games, and no sight of DH anywhere. With dinner needing to be made, I mumbled and grumbled while I washed the dishes and began to prepare dinner. DD walks in to the kitchen, drops off more dirty dishes and is about to walk back out. I asked her where her father is and she informs me that he has not been home since he left this morning to go see his parents. Well, needless to say, that feeling I thought was "off" became a rage fest in my head. I was absolutely livid that DH was not home. I was beside myself that I spent the day working to come home to wash dirty dishes and start dinner without a moment to actually sit down and relax. I was disappointed in DD for not taking care of the dishes in my absence, but not all that thrilled when she felt compelled to add more to wash when I started filling the sink with soapy water without even making an attempt to be helpful after the fact. I was feeling unappreciated and with my crumbling kitchen, I felt another hot flash come. Then my skin felt itchy and I had this really strong feeling I wanted to hit DH with a frying pan when he would stroll into the house. Once DH did come home, dinner was done and I was an emotional basket case. I was mad that he was gone, but I was also mad that he came home. Not understanding why I would feel that way, I started crying and knew that if I did not leave the room I was going to go completely bats#it crazy on the next person that would even look at me. I ran down stairs and curled up on the couch and tried to deal with this sudden urge to yell at my family. Sadly, I couldn't find a cure for my mood swing and could not find a happy place for another 2 days. I grumbled and swore a blue streak (quietly) while rolling my eyes for two whole days at my family. Let's just say, I did not even want to be around myself and that is saying a lot. Once those two days were over, I knew that I was given the experience of menopausal mood swings. I thought that with this knowledge, I would be able to manage these mood swings better in the future, but it seems that I just can't get them under control. All my go-to distractions and diversions from less than positive thought are not working. I am not enjoying reading books and I am not all that motivated to do any bead work. I have had dozens of these hate everything and everyone phases and I am so not looking forward to how long this phase is going to last. I have managed to mask most of the mood swings when I am outside of my house, but I fear that people are starting to catch on that I am a woman on the edge. I might be sporting a sign across my chest telling people to duck and cover in my very near future.
Of course, my few night sweats experiences are changing to just miserable hot flashes that wake me up from a dead sleep believing my house is on fire. I am not sure, but I can only hope that my 3-4 hours of uninterrupted sleep a night is acceptable to keep me sane. I don't think I have slept a solid 8 hours in a couple years now. It is kind of like having a baby again with those late night feedings and changings, but without food and without a baby to tend to. Changing was mandatory those times I had a case of the night sweats. Now, I splash cold water on my face and go back to sleep.
One thought has come to mind.... I am not exactly fitting in my clothes like I used to. I did see the doctor and handed her my food journal and her answer is that regardless of what I eat, I am probably going to gain some weight. My stress levels are bordering off the charts and that creates cortisol and that just builds a bigger stomach. Menopause is just the cherry on that craptastic sundae with it becoming more difficult to actually lose weight, but easier to gain weight. I guess I can thank goodness for yoga pants now. The days of wearing jeans are a thing of the past. Bummer! I liked my jeans. I stopped going to my WeightWatchers meetings because those food Nazis were really wearing on my nerves, but at least I am still trying to adhere to the plan and that should count for something, right? I am still active, but I refuse to remain on a figurative hamster wheel every time I smell food. I am just so darn tired!
I do find it absolutely hilarious that with this unappealing weight gain, mood swings, and whatnot... I am having the most erotic dreams of my life. Go figure! That is, when I am asleep long enough to actually have a dream. Last night's dream was a doozy and I am keeping that one to myself. Sorry. *laughing hysterically*
Well, time to stop here. Thanks for reading. I hope I shared something funny or relate-able. Have a good one, folks!
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