Three days after my fiftieth birthday, as that snippy little waitress was standing there with that glued-on prom queen smile, I realized that there was a problem. I wanted to rip her head off! The nerve of that child asking me if I needed a senior-aged discount, simply for asking if I could have some more iced-tea to go with my nice hot soothing coffee. Menopause; like she'd never seen a sweaty coffee drinker need a cold drink before.
Irritable? Well, who wouldn't be irritable after being called a senior citizen years before my time. At age fifty, I was still wearing my fashionable size 5 skinny jeans, and besides, that little missy just rubbed me the wrong way. I was hot. I was tired too, after being awake for three nights in a row doing housework so that my fiancé would not make any more jokes about my night sweats that left us both soaked and uncomfortable in bed.
I had tried all of the menopause over-the-counter drugs that were available; name brand remedies, health store solutions, and chocolate. Nothing worked to stop my daytime hot flashes, nighttime cold sweats, irritability, or mood swings - at times it felt like I was losing my grip on reality. But, as luck would have it, as I was explaining my displeasure over being called a senior citizen to a friend, they suggested that I try DON'T PAUSE.
I was a victim of menopause. That's the only way I can describe it. I could not understand why my body, after producing five healthy kids, had suddenly turned on me and was ruining my life with embarrassing and humiliating symptoms.
Hot flashes and night sweats were occurring constantly. I was always too hot. I had to dress in layers I could quickly remove whenever the heat got unbearable. I could not tolerate the summer heat.
I'd always been emotionally stable. Suddenly I was bursting into tears in public and, when I wasn't crying, I was telling someone off. My mental health, formerly so steady, seemed to have fallen apart. I worried that I was going insane.
