Emotions amok...again
Late in the afternoon yesterday my daughter started feeling nauseated. Eventually she threw up and when we put her to bed, she was running a slight fever. We had all eaten the same things that day, and my husband said that it was probably just a bout of the intestinal flu, but me being menopausal, started worrying about all kinds of things: there was that meningitis scare when two people died in Malibu; did my daughter accidentally come in contact with that topical testosterone cream that I'm using (which I'm doing because I'm trying to get my libido back, and although I'm actually okay with a platonic relationship as long as there's physical affection, frankly I could use some energy). And what about all the other things that the books say that if it gets to the point when the person is running a fever and throwing up, you should take them to the emergency room?
So I lost a lot of sleep getting up and checking on her. This morning she was weak but was better, and actually laughed, so whatever it was, is over, and she just rests today and eats light, she should be fine by tomorrow.
Then my husband remarks "Wow, you were a thousand times more concerned about her last night than when she was sick when she was 4! I was the one freaking out then!" I just looked at him for a minute before reminding that I WAS NOT MENOPAUSAL THEN!!!!!!! >:(
So today...it's rage. And thanks to that testosterone (which so far, has not helped to make me horny in the least) I would really like to destroy something.
[Later] I went to the backyard and jumped all over J for basically nothing, cried, apologized, cried some more. He forgives me....but it takes a while for me to forgive myself.
Even as a teenager, I prided myself on being the Anti-Drama Queen; I was, and almost always have been able to tell what was a Big Deal and what was a Little Thing; what was worth making a fuss over and what was so minuscule it should be shrugged off and forgotten. I continued to do this as an adult...
.....until Perimenopause, Menopause, and now Post Menopause hit. Now every stupid little thing is a Big Thing that requires dramatic confrontation. I hate it. As if all the physical symptoms aren't bad enough, the total lack of control over the emotions absolutely sucks. My husband, who's been the model for patience and understanding of what I'm going through, deserves the Medal of Valor.
But we've dealt with it. Again. And he's forgiven me...again. (He says that there's nothing to forgive).
And now I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted....but, on the good side, our daughter's doing much better, and I'm not so angry anymore.
...can I get off the rollercoaster now? PLEASE??
So I lost a lot of sleep getting up and checking on her. This morning she was weak but was better, and actually laughed, so whatever it was, is over, and she just rests today and eats light, she should be fine by tomorrow.
Then my husband remarks "Wow, you were a thousand times more concerned about her last night than when she was sick when she was 4! I was the one freaking out then!" I just looked at him for a minute before reminding that I WAS NOT MENOPAUSAL THEN!!!!!!! >:(
So today...it's rage. And thanks to that testosterone (which so far, has not helped to make me horny in the least) I would really like to destroy something.
[Later] I went to the backyard and jumped all over J for basically nothing, cried, apologized, cried some more. He forgives me....but it takes a while for me to forgive myself.
Even as a teenager, I prided myself on being the Anti-Drama Queen; I was, and almost always have been able to tell what was a Big Deal and what was a Little Thing; what was worth making a fuss over and what was so minuscule it should be shrugged off and forgotten. I continued to do this as an adult...
.....until Perimenopause, Menopause, and now Post Menopause hit. Now every stupid little thing is a Big Thing that requires dramatic confrontation. I hate it. As if all the physical symptoms aren't bad enough, the total lack of control over the emotions absolutely sucks. My husband, who's been the model for patience and understanding of what I'm going through, deserves the Medal of Valor.
But we've dealt with it. Again. And he's forgiven me...again. (He says that there's nothing to forgive).
And now I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted....but, on the good side, our daughter's doing much better, and I'm not so angry anymore.
...can I get off the rollercoaster now? PLEASE??
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