Women Over 50 and Our Monumental Discovery of Our Pact with the Devil

In order for women to have the parts and hormones necessary to partake in the great privilege of giving birth, women have unknowingly made a secret pact with the devil.
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Attention ladies, ahem, at "that time of life." I have made an important -- perhaps monumental -- discovery.

In order for women to have the parts and hormones necessary to partake in the great privilege of giving birth, women have unknowingly made a secret pact with the devil.

Devil: (Smiling and rubbing his red wiry hands together) "So, you want the ability to grow a human in your body? That miracle can be arranged, but first, let's make a deal. I will allow you to have all the beautiful babies you want, but once you hit your late forties, your body belongs to me!"

Typical woman's reply while in childbearing years: "Hey look, I have put up with the monthly "curse" and PMS for all these years, how could it be any worse? I agree to your deal!"

Typical woman's thought while in menopausal age: "Remind me again exactly when I signed up for this Hell?"

I am willing to admit that hormones affect everyone differently. They are powerful chemicals that are naturally produced and affect body and mind. Some women have an easier time with things like the monthly cycle while others are in agony or have horrific PMS each month. Some struggle with postpartum depression and other symptoms after birth, and others, like the Duggar lady, seem to spit out babies with nary a hormonal care.

So, maybe it is just my luck, but I am having a very hard time with menopause. That smile you see by my blog photo? I am a natural smiler. However, it has been wiped off my face as of late due to annoying symptoms.

In fact, what's going on in my body feels approximately like what happened to that little girl in the movie The Exorcist.

Despite my vigorous vitamin regimen, exercise and good health, I am losing the battle against my hormones (or lack thereof). This thing is wearing me down, beating me down, taking my chipper, youthful soul and stomping it into extinction.

When women go to doctors with a long list of hideous symptoms, the doctors (in an agreement with the same devil) either give you hormones that may or may not harm your health later, or they give you anti-depressants. It seems that anti-depressants not only make you happier about the state of utter misery your body is in, but they help with other symptoms such as insomnia. (Have I mentioned that I am writing this at 4:30 a.m.?)

Yes, these symptoms are extremely depressing, but I am not ready for an anti-depressants, and like I was determined to go with natural childbirth, I wanted to go natural through menopause, too.

I had no idea how hard that would be and am about to wave the white flag.

Hear me: If you have it bad like I do, it is impossible -- I said impossible -- to ignore these symptoms, to bear them with strength, resolve and good humor. I must have been hallucinating, thinking I could breeze through this. Edith Bunker couldn't and neither can I. No one can even tell you how long it might last.

In the meantime: Has anyone seen my brain? It seems to be among the missing at various times when I need it most. Description, in case you find it: Gray-mattered in color, occasionally witty, creative and literary.

Also: Can anyone sell me a new body thermostat? Mine is completely dysfunctional, causing me to sweat for the first time in my life, and vary wildly between burning hot and freezing cold. When fans were on sale at my local store, the lady checking me out with my personal, clip-on fan and two large fan purchases, looked at me kind of funny.

I hear the devil laughing his evil laugh right now.

Note: My blog on my own site is Hot Flashes, but it is NOT about menopause. It is my way of saying "Hot topics with a wink and a nod to that time of life " at www.arlenelassin.com.

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