The invasion of the body continues

 Okay, just when I thought I’d got this sweat under control, the hot flashes rip through me and make it all a billion times worse. Summer’s buggered off now but you wouldn’t believe so, the absolute state of me. My hair – my beautiful hair I was always so proud of – is lank, sweaty and straw-like. I resemble Worzel Gummidge and keep looking out for Aunt bleedin’ Sally. This menopause is no joke. Your body is no longer your own and way out of control. My hair presses on my forehead like a boiling towel and the chills that flood me make me shiver uncontrollably. Combine flu, covid, and a shitty cold together and you haven’t got half of it.

I usually wear pretty patterned neck scarves but no chance of that because they feel too tight on my skin and exacerbate the heat factor, in turn making me irritated with the world’s shortest temper. Oh, the temper. Never known anything like it. I flip quicker than a pancake on Shrove Tuesday. The emotions won’t settle. I’m bawling at the silliest of things but then I’ll harden just like that and get angry with myself for showing emotion in the first place. The rage is boiling over though, that’s scary. The other day I needed to scratch an itch on my cheek and it wasn’t anything major, just a light one. But, it wicked me right off and I had the urge to scrape my cheek, oh I was pissed off. Felt like Freddy Kruger wanting to shred through a human torso, the way I wanted to dig this bloody itch out of my cheek. Horrendous.

I’m stuck with this menopause for goodness knows how long. I’m not even sure. I’ve not been to the GP, they have enough to cope with without some wreck of a woman rocking up. I know they can give you HRT but wouldn’t they have awful side effects? I try and steer clear of meds, the way I deliberate over taking an asprin for a headache is bad enough. I’m not computer literate so can’t Google or Goggle or whatever it’s called.  I did see Sandy the cleaner the other day and she kind of saw that I was in a bit of a state, like she possibly understood but no doubt she was thinking what a sweaty idiot I looked. She’s alright though and maybe she’s going through it herself. I get the feeling something might not be quite right with her too. You can tell by looking at someone’s eyes, you can peer right into them.

Anyway, there’s a staff tea out next week. I’m nervous because that’ll probably be a moment when I’m on one and start to shiver and seep sweat out. Pity I can’t give them a heads up and a warning. I’d understand if they didn’t want me there, I’d look a holy show and they’ve got enough to contend with. Part of me wants to shout out that I’m struggling with this alien that’s occupied every part of me and has set up camp for the foreseeable. I wish I had help to deal with it, I want that more than anything.