Eating At a Buffet of Depression: A Menopausal Banquet of Anxiety
By HomeRearedChef on June 09, 2011
I have been sitting here at my computer—with time just slipping by, staring at my document—pondering on whether or not to write just how I really feel today—far from humorous. Because it is a well known fact, and all that know me will attest, that I am the first to poke fun at me—and of my alter-ego, Menopause, that Banshee, wailer of distress. In these past many days, Menopause has me in the throngs of emotional pain and anguish. And for the sake of my family, those I love dearly, I struggle with all of my being to keep the beast within from emerging.
In a list of 34 medically known “menopausal symptoms,” I admit to being positive to 23. My 5 most obvious are: night sweats, mood swings, fatigue, anxiety, and depression being the most notable and unbearable. Sigh! And life-altering changes—i.e., jobs being lost, seeing your children face disappointment and unhappiness, and I just feeling useless and helpless to it all—common pitfalls of life, seems to magnify my symptoms ten-fold. So could life get any more complicated?
Admittedly, the only thing that keeps me happy-enough these days (sedated, more like it!) is cooking and eating…and a glass, or two or three, of wine. Ahh! But honestly, if I keep at this rate, eating and drinking my fill, I’ll become very and really unhappy. Because just when I begin to think and believe that I am feeling much better about myself, because, after all, I have been walking and exercising, just as prescribed, I’ll turn the corner and run straight into a wall. Falling right back where I started!
I write this today because I know that I am not alone in what I am going through; there is a degree of relief to know that others are going through the same emotional rollercoaster. And we are not crazy!
I also take comfort in knowing that my husband, my Lancelot Knight of over 29½ years, understands and stands by me, helping in any way he can. The poor dear!
As I close this blog, with the setting of the sun, I’ve just got back from a long brisk walk with my hubby, in hopes of reviving my tormented, menopausal spirit. I am told this should help as an aid for a better night’s sleep, and I can tell you that at this moment I feel amazingly alive: my heart is pumping with a steady thump and my cheeks are flushed red with the rush of adrenaline.
Hear me now; I am not giving in nor giving up!
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