Let me preface this by saying this is a bad brain day. (It’s a longish story but I fell and hit my head and have sustained a head injury.) Aside from picking random tiny pieces of gravel out of my forehead that just bubble up to the surface when they feel like it – I’m finding that it’s taking me three times as long to do anything so I’m sure this post is going take me three days.

It seems like everything is happening all at once, and I am not managing any of it very well.

Aging and Menopause

Nobody and I mean nobody could have even remotely prepared me for not only middle age, but 50 and above. They don’t teach this in school. Not in any school. Sure they’re books out on the inter webs that talk about aging, empty nesters, and the other dirty word “menopause” – but there’s no class in high school or even college that touched on any of this.

And… would be really have listened, are paid attention? Probably not.

I began to notice around the age of 40 that some parts took longer to wake up than others in the morning. And my once very healthy libido took a hike. My partner not understanding about any of this thought it was something he did – and I found myself saying the dreaded words “ It’s me not you”. So off to the doctor I went terrified that there was something terribly wrong with me – something sinister. Only to be told that it was just perimenopause and to fasten my seatbelt because the next 10 or so years was going to be a roller coaster ride of physical and emotional symptoms.

She wasn’t kidding.

Between the mood swings, hot flashes, and tears (so so many tears), I was a hot mess. Then the brain fog set in, fatigue appeared, more tears, irregular periods, weight gain, and my joints began to hurt, so did my skin.

It was all just so weird.

Through this time I was working full-time, raising a family, running a busy household- doing it pretty much single-handedly because I had a partner who traveled for work 65% of the time outside of the country.

Fast forward to (coughcough-sixty-coughcough) Everyone’s grown, out of the house. We are empty nesters. My libido is meh- (had left the building like Elvis long time ago). And if I’m being completely honest, if I had a choice between sleep and sex, sleep would win every time.

Not that I don’t love him- but dang this girl needs her sleep.

In the meantime, we are working through, with, and around our respective health issues that come with aging.

My partner and I have been together almost 30 years and married 25 years this month. We cannot tell you where the time has gone. We both feel like we were just bringing our child home from the hospital as a newborn, we blinked, and we were walking our child to kindergarten- we turned around and we were in enduring middle school- took a breath and we were attending high school graduation- we are at the finish line with college, at least a bachelors degree and he’s a grown-up.

An entire generation has come and gone.

We now have matching canes. We take medication. We get a runny nose after meals. We forget shit, and yell at the news. Oh- we don’t hear nearly enough from our son. Not nearly enough.

I feel like we should be awarded a medal or something.

Relationships “et al”

When I say “et al” I mean all the others in my life not just the dude I share a home with.

Can I just say that relationships are hard? I get that we choose “our hard”. But Jesus- here’s another one of those topics they just don’t talk about or teach in school.

Typically you don’t learn about this stuff until you’ve had your heart broken a time or 11. Maybe a divorce under your belt. Or a break up with a platonic friend. Or an estrangement from a child or another family member before you think maybe it’s a good idea to park your ass in a therapist chair for a while to figure it all out.

AND EVEN THEN– sometimes you don’t figure it out and you have to go back and do it all over again.

Fuck. Right?

They are just a challenge. Or maybe it’s just me. But I am struggling with the majority of my relationships right now. It’s no fun and incredibly frustrating.

Injury

It’s taking me so about three hours to get all of this down on artificial turf (online) which has been brought to you by the letters H & I (head injury).

Earlier this summer, I took a fall and hit my head on concrete. Aside from more sutures than you can shake a stick at, I injured my back, cracked teeth, jacked the right shoulder, arm, and hand- last but not least – I was diagnosed with a moderate concussion.

I don’t recall having a concussion as a kid- I may have had one maybe at the age of nine? The neighbor kid and I were out riding bikes, and we crashed. So I’ve been pretty lucky up until now.

But let me tell you – concussions are a motherfucker. There is no way around them. You cannot tough your way through them. You cannot bulldoze your way through them You’re at the mercy of your brain healing on its own timetable.

Thankfully, I have a pretty spectacular concussion therapist that I am working with- but this is probably one of the hardest things I’ve endured, and I’ve endured my share of health crap.

I cry a lot these days. Especially when I can see and understand cognitively that I have a series of deficits that I’m working with.

Writing is something I try to do on a daily basis. To me writing is like breathing. I need to use that part of my brain daily. Since my accident that part isn’t working so well and it’s been devastating.

I thought this may help me. But I’m not sure. All I know is I do not write with is, or finesse, and I’ve completely lost my sense of humor. Sigh.

One of the things that I have rapidly learned about myself regarding this concussion is that when my brain has had enough, it lets me know without adoubt that it’s done.

And I’m just about done.

I own the fact that I’m one of the most impatient people on the planet and I don’t like to wait.

However- the rest of the stuff I want to talk about it’s just gonna have to wait.

Night.