Gentlemen? You are best served by paying close attention to this blog for it will happen to you.
Ladies – it will be your future as well. Peri-menopause. It makes PMS feel like a walk in the goddam park. The hormones start raging and if you aren’t forewarned? There will be collateral damage. Your brain and mouth turn evil. They are no longer under your control. You open your mouth to say something only to find a demon has taken possession of your tongue. Battle of the bulge??? It isn’t a battle; it is all out warfare and you are not going to be victorious. That waistline that you were always, secretly, proud to possess? It disappears. Virtually overnight – it’s gone. Everything you eat, even a goddam salad is converted to, yet another, bulge. Sleep is fleeting and totally unsatisfactory. Between the dreams, the night sweats and having to freakin’ pee…sleep is a sweet and gentle memory of bygone days.
Oh and the headaches. They can last for days; Motrin is an impotent partner – lying limp and leaving you wanting more…and more, just to make the dull throbbing leave you in peace.
Mood swings – you can experience 10 in an hour. Joyously happy and then suddenly, you’re ready to rip the throat out of the next person who, so much as, looks at you funny.
All of this and still the PMS and your period come along to exacerbate it all; pimples, cramps and bleeding like there is no tomorrow. All you want to do is crawl into your bed until it is all over. Until menopause comes along to show you that you have only experienced purgatory – hell is yet to come.
But still the world expects you to be happy. They expect you to function like a normal human being while your body and mind feel like strangers bent on leaving you weeping in a dark corner. You are not permitted to slap, into eternity, that fresh young thing complaining about gaining weight as she slips by you in her size 5 clothing. You can’t slap her, ladies; it is against the law. I checked. Console yourself with the knowledge that your hell will be her hell in the not so distant future. She too, will find her waistline stolen in the night, her sleep disrupted and lines to nowhere on her face. She too, will know the misery of mood cycling, of crying, of murderous rage…Try to smile, try – use Scotch Tape or lip liner if necessary…she will meet her Karma and there is nothing that can be done to stave it off. It is our reality. Our fate as women. The nurturer to the budding serial killer. The lovely woman tending her garden to the crazy cat lady down the street.
And our menfolk can do naught but stand to the side, keep the heads down and their mouths shut. This too shall pass but it will seem like a goddam eternity.