Pausing for Six Months

The Monster Within

So far, I've had it really easy with menopause. One hot flash? Fine. Hating my husband? Nope. But irritability? Oh hell, yeah.

I've never suffered from PMS much. I've been on the pill for so long that I have to think back about fifteen years to remember real PMS. You know, where you cry for no reason, don't want to talk to anyone, and find yourself to be the ugliest person alive. But menopause is bringing it out in me. I haven't cried much, though I feel like I could (and should! You know that pressure behind your eyes where you just want to put on ET and cry your eyes out?).

But more than the occasional need to cry, I am feeling irritable. I don't want to write about it too much, because so many of the great friends I see on a daily basis read this. And I'm not necessarily irritable AT them, just near them. And considering that they like me as I am right now, I'm a little worried about making them NOT like me if they see what a bitch I feel like in my head. I'm not annoyed at things they say or do, I'm just annoyed. Annoyed. At nothing. And all I want to do is sit on the couch and read, or maybe just not move an inch because if I do move, I might bump into something that will then deserve my wrath.

Example: my kitchen is small. For someone who likes to cook, this is tragic. But I've been living with a small kitchen for three years now and had become used to it. I'm used to limiting what small appliances I can have because I don't have storage for them. (Goodbye, bread maker and waffle maker. I hope you went to good homes.) I'm used to the fact that I have to move the trash can to load and unload the dishwasher. I'm used to the lack of counter space. Or at least, I was, until my friend Annoyance moved in. Now I put off unloading the dishwasher. And when I finally can't find a clean coffee mug (and oh my word you don't want to see me without coffee these days) I give in and empty it. So I move the trash can, lower the door of the washer, pull out the racks, and start emptying. But with the dishwasher door open, I can't reach the high shelves above it to put away the big pasta bowls. I have to put the racks of the DW back in, close the door, then stand in front of DW to put bowls away. Such a travesty, I know. Three weeks ago, this was not even a minor annoyance. Now when I do it? I sigh heavily. I throw the bowl onto the counter. I slam the door shut. I wonder (aloud, to myself) "Who the HELL thought this was a good kitchen layout?" The dog hides in the bedroom as I slam the cupboard door. Then I throw the DW door back open and finish unloading. And if I had missed one of the bowls and have to do it all over again? Well, then I usually give up, stomp back into the other room, and take solace in Buffalo Ranch Doritos.

I do this when I'm alone. I haven't subjected my husband to it. I haven't let my friends see the steam come out of my ears. I separate myself from the group when I feel the green monster within me coming out, and keep this all a secret. I only share it with the interweb.

I know it isn't all that bad, in reality. I haven't thrown anything at anyone, haven't yelled at anyone (though I use road rage more productively now, to channel Annoyance) and don't think that anyone around me has noticed anything. But I'm not willing to take chances. I'm keeping the monster inside.

Labels: annoyance, Menopause symptoms

posted by Vander @ 9:34 AM