Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Today’s problem has been me. MEMEMEMEMEMEMEME. I want to climb up walls then jump on people before starting fights. My ability to construct coherent sentences has evaporated. Not good for someone who sells their soul on this ability, let me tell you. I need all the cake and chocolate with the desperation of a rabid addict. It will be hormones again, but without the red tide of horror that normally foretells their arrival. You think Menopause means you got served the good end of the deal BUT NO YOU’RE STILL FUCKED.

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This means a number of things: I have the attention span of a gnat. All food is potentially delicious and dangerous. Exercise makes everything hurt in a way that is just depressing, especially stomach and lower back. I’m prickly and unpredictable with the kids. It’s the equivalent of having an allergic reaction without all the potentially fatal consequences and just the horrendous, uncontrollable mental itch that WILL NOT GO AWAY. I have had a few days like this in the slowdown to menstrual cessation, and this has been by far the worst. Honestly, if I could cut the damn things out of my system so a) I can sleep for more than two hours without drowning in my own sweat and b) return to some semblance of normal mental faculties IT WOULD BE GREAT.

YES I JUST WANT TO FUCKING YELL AT EVERYONE.

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Therefore, I would like to apologise for the cessation of Normal Service. I’m trying to walk and exercise my way to utter exhaustion, in the vain hope it will allow my body to beat the hormones and just collapse in a heap. I’m almost there: it’s nearly 6pm and this is as close to shattered as I’ve managed for some time. All I can hope is that I’ll crawl to 9-10ish, fall into bed and finally blissfully there’s more than two hours of unconsciousness.

I’ve stopped caring about just about everything. I’m sorry. I just want this to go away.