I haven’t written in a long time. I could blame our vacation, having house guests, or my son coming to town for a bit. I could blame my chronic procrastination. I could blame the fact that there is so much to be done around here in this house that has been neglected for a while. But really, it’s probably menopause.
Is it menopause that makes me think nobody really likes me…?
Is it menopause that makes me think I have no talent? Is it menopause that makes me cringe at the idea of having anyone read anything I ever wrote? Is it menopause that makes me think nobody really likes me and they are all just being super nice to the crazy lady?
I know I’m menopausal because just out of the blue I will be having a nice chat or discussion with someone and for no good reason and quite suddenly, I will lash out at them with a venomous tone and biting sarcasm. It’s like something evil has just passed through my body and escaped my mouth. Out. Of. The. Blue. (I have been looking for an image to put here, but the only one that I can find that really fits is the Exorcist vomit scene. Nobody needs that image in their head.)
I know I’m menopausal because I wake up in the middle of the night absolutely drenched. And hot. And worried about everything: Trump, money, whether Kelly unfriended me on FB or just de-activated her account. I spend a lot of time in the middle of the night alternately being angry at the pets because they really love how hot I am and want to cuddle and then sorry that I’m angry at the pets who love me and just want to be near me. That’s got to be hormonal.
I’m just realizing I’m a shitty writer.
Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t blame menopause. I’m just realizing I’m a shitty writer. Seriously no good. I mean, really, what is blogging anyway? Just narcissistic ramblings about myself that nobody really cares about. Just me being self-deprecating and expecting people to choose to listen. Just a bunch of crap that I QUIT MY FUCKING JOB to spew and think that I would get paid to do it!!!! What have I done???
In the car the other day, I was expressing these very thoughts while battling every fiber of my being to not ram the car in front of me which had the audacity to be turning too slowly. Jolie, like my own personal Zen teacher, reached over from the passenger’s seat and gently rubbed my shoulder as she said, “Mom, just don’t make any decisions about whether to blog or not until you’re through this.”
Good idea. I’m not through it yet, so I’m posting this. I’m sorry. Blame it on Buddha Girl.
Anybody else feeling anything similar? If so, let me know! Maybe I’m not so crazy after all…