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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1270817-Menopause-Mile-100
Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Women's · #1270817
menopause is another word for insanity



Menopause: Mile 100



I don't know how or where to begin with this. They say hindsight is 20/20 and indeed it is. As I look back on the last few years, I can see what my life circumstances have brought to me and it is not a happy view.
If I had had half a clue, what my husband and Menopause would do to me, I would never have moved to Mexico.

The bottom line is: I lost myself when I moved to another country. Maybe if I'd been 38 and not 48, this wouldn't have happened. But I can't change the path my life took. I was a believer and I took chances. I had no inkling, the changes in my body and in being at the hands of a serial bully, would do to my Psyche, to my very ability to live.

The result is, I am now 3,000 miles away from my beloved son and it is killing me. But it was, either leave Mexico and rebuild yourself or die. Dying was not an option. And slowly wasting away in full view of my son was also not an option.

Menopause played (and unfortunately) continues to play a huge part in the destruction of my life. I am not one of those ladies who can live on words -- words that hold you up -- the "Fight the Good Fight" words.

If I had had a husband who loved me, I may have been able to fight the good fight, but he hated me. He took me apart piece by piece. As soon as we moved to Mexico, he kicked me to the curb.

I think I stayed in this marriage as long as I did, because I was helpless. And I do not know why I was so helpless and confused. But I was. I was also derailed in disbelief, that this was happening to me. The very reason I waited so long to have a child, was the very thing that was happening. All I wanted was a kid who had a mom and dad that loved each other, for that is the American Dream, anymore. And when it was clear that John did not love me, more correctly, that he Loathed me, I stood suspended in disbelief. That disbelief would suspend me for seven fucking years.

I have strayed here, talking about my marriage, when I wanted to pinpoint where I was on the map with menopause, but everything led to everything. Everything caused everything.

I have now logged 17 months in the hell that is Menopause. This is not counting the peri-menopausal years. They say (O Wise Doctors and Legion of Books) that after you pass the one year mark of not having a period, you are through with IT.

Uh-huh. If it weren't for hormones, anti-anxiety meds, anti-depressant meds and tequila, I would have been through with IT a long time ago. I would also not be HERE.

Menopause did not break up my marriage. That marriage should never have happened, but menopause hastened my husband's hatred of me. For when you are weak, you need shoring up. When you can barely do the basics, you need some sympathy and when your life has taken a Screaming Left Turn and doesn't let up for years, you really need someone by your side who can handle it. And he would not handle it.

I titled this piece Mile 100. I do not know how many more miles it will be. I thought that by leaving Mexico, divorcing my cruel mate, I might begin to feel better. But just as I made the decision to leave Mexico and come back home, my body and mind began to fall apart again.

For two weeks now I have had the constant "sweating one moment, shivering the next." The nausea. The feeling that all is not right: the feeling of insanity.

If you haven't felt this part of Menopause, you are lucky. You are very lucky. The feeling of insanity alone is indescribable. I know that I am not making this up, because I belong to a website called PowerSurge and it is documented over and over again; women tearing their hair out, women emotionally checking out of life, women going to the ER because they don't understand, can't comprehend what is happening to them.

So here I go again. Only this time, I am 3,000 miles away from my son and it's killing me.
I look back and I see where my life has gone awry. If we hadn't moved to Mexico, we would be another divorced couple who lived across town from each other, trading back and forth the most precious thing in their lives. But because I had to leave that country and leave my son in school, I am now struggling through each day without him.

Struggling.

I chose to leave my son in school and his father and I are working out a parenting plan. How do you work out a parenting plan when you live in two different countries?

I am the one who is paying the price, because I choose not to live there. I know you don't understand and you can't. It is hard for me to explain. But this too, has to do with menopause. The roller coaster my body is going through, has taken every thing out of me. I could no longer even "play" with my son. And I watched him cope with me.

Most mothers go through this when their kids are teens. By that time, a child can pretty much take care of themselves, has their circle of friends, and mom can just lock herself in her room if she has to. But I had my kid late in life and he cannot take care of himself. Needs the attention, that being menopausal robs you from being able to give.

And the tears. The tears for Everything. This is another thing my boy cannot understand. On one level he "knows." He knows that his father does not love his mother. He "knows" they do not get along. But he doesn't understand what else is going on with her. Why she cannot "do" things.

The deck was stacked against me, because I have chronic depression also. And of course, this was exacerbated by moving to a foreign country, being walled off from my support system and then being ignored by my husband.

At Mile 100, I wonder what is next? I called my doctor and asked for a stronger hormone, for truly I cannot do "this." I went back on anti-depressants.
I am hoping, for all I can do is hope, that these medications will take some of the pain away.

I had thought that when I reached my 50's, that maybe most of the hard part would be over. I truly wonder if I will ever have a happy day again in my life.

Hanging On
Karla

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