Separation anxiety

Something terrible is happening in my life. I am ceasing to care about things that used to move me deeply. When it comes to accumulating the accolades and accoutrements of success and the trappings of valuable social currency, I just don't care like I used to. It's not that I don't see the value in having a solid resume or a decent car and a nice house -- I do. I'm just not driven to acquire them, like I used to be.

Maybe it's because I already have them, and I'm not "living from a social deficit," like I used to be. Maybe it's because I have tasted the fruits of great success, and I realize that there's more to life than being able to say I accomplished what I set out to do. But there's a chemical element to it, as well. For some reason, I no longer have the same intense, burning, frenzied desire to achieve that used to drive me, day and night, when I was in my late 20's and early 30's.

It feels strange, almost heretical. I should be driven to succeed. I should be compelled to prove my worth and play my part in the grand theater of life. I should be borderline OCD about what I do with my life, everyday. It should matter to me, what clothes I'm wearing, what car I'm driving, what job I'm holding down. It should be of utmost importance, that I'm taken seriously in life, in the world, in my job, in my home... Everything that once mattered to me, should still.

Theoretically, anyway.

But the reality is, I don't care. Maybe it's being given the runaround at work once too often. Maybe it's having worked my ass off (I need a better expression -- despite all my hard work, my ass is still around, and it's larger than ever ;) and not seeing compensation that could take the place of my neglected home and home life. Maybe it's getting to a point in my life, where I should be satisfied with all the rewards of being a diligent citizen and taxpayer, but being terribly dissatisfied with what I'm seeing around me. Maybe it's coming up in the world as a woman, seeking to make my mark on this world, only to find that, at the end of the road, it really still is a man's world. And that world is ruled and shaped by sensibilities which are not only foreign but sometimes outright obnoxious to me.

Whatever the reason, I find myself not really giving a damn about a lot of things that used to really, really matter to me. And it's a little disorienting. And not only for me, but for everyone around me. I often find people (co-workers, relatives, friends, etc.) looking at me oddly as I shrug and say, "Whatever," when the give me news that should have been bad. Or they don't see me getting as excited over things, like I once did. A chemical change seems to be taking place in my mind, which is dulling the edge of my past desires and drives... but which is replacing that almost animal drive with a more self-referencing perspective.

I'm much more logical now, than I was even two years ago. I don't have the same peaks and valleys of emotion that used to keep me running. It was quite exciting to have all those highs and lows, of course, but in the end, it was just exhausting. Someone very smart once said that excess leads to enlightenment, and I'm hoping it holds true. I think it does.

Because what drives me now, is not adrenaline or frantic frenzy. It's not the thrill of the chase and the excitement of drama. It's not immediate reaction to immediate stimuli. It's something much more boring, and much more encouraging -- what drives me more and more, now, is common sense.

I know, I know, it's not very exciting. Formulating a studious and well-planned inquiry and then coming up with a logical solution to an issue, based on the information known and extrapolated, is a lot less dramatic than working around the clock, depriving myself of sleep and food and then suddenly striking upon inspiration at the least-expected moment. But from where I'm sitting, it's actually more exciting. Because the former sort of discovery is the kind you can take to the bank and actually implement, whereas the latter sleep/food/companionship-deprived "spark" still remains to be proved out. And in the end, the one that can actually be done, is the one worth getting excited about.

Now, here's why this is a tragic development in my life. It's actually not tragic for me, but for the rest of the crowd around me -- the crowd who are accustomed to me being an adrenaline junky who's willing to go to any lengths and make all sorts of personal sacrifices to get the job done. The person they once knew and worked with is gone. I don't care about the thrill of the chase anymore. I don't care about the bids for greatness wrapped in excess and drama. I don't care about pretending something can be done, just to impress folks with what a can-do kinda gal I am. I don't care about the adrenaline-soaked hours of fighting fires and pushing-pushing-pushing for a solution long past the point of physical or mental effectiveness. To those people who were counting on me staying as I was for all time, I'm gone. I'm missing. The old me has passed on and left a more cynical, less trusting, more wily, less perky person in her wake. The old me, who was so eager to be longsuffering and give everyone the benefit of the doubt, is nowhere to be seen.

Which is very sad for some people. Even tragic. Because now I no longer give a damn about their personal pain and suffering which they nurse like 2-week-old kittens. Now I no longer give a rat's ass about their personal ambitions, insofar as they serve only themselves and won't share the wealth. Now I just can't get all excited about projects which may or may not work out, and which depend primarily on this pie-in-the-sky can-do attitude which just grates on my over-experienced nerves. Countless people are selling excitement, but I'm not buying. I'm not buying their product, I'm not buying their vision, I'm not buying their lines. I'm not buying, unless it works, and living as I do in this country of the United States, precious few people who are selling are offering much that has been proven to really, truly, honestly work as promised. Whether it's a war or a car or a career change, what's being sold hasn't been proven... worse yet, too much of what's got a price tag is turning out to be some banana republic knock-off (not the clothing store -- the actual term, which the store lifted).

It's unforunate for this economy, that I've become like this. Because so much of our gross national product relies on the trust and optimism of the buying public, and if I (onetime early adopter and fresh-faced optimist) am becoming this way, you can bet a whole lot of other people are, too. Women, especially, I think. As we progress in our lives and survive one betrayal of trust after another... as our bodies change and we find out nothing is really guaranteed or permanent... as our moods and emotions change, and we find out that we either pay a lot more attention to ourselves, or our lives are going to shit... we pull away from all the cloying, needy souls who have feasted on our energies for, lo, these past 20-30 years of adulthood, and things start to change.

It's not just unforunate for this economy, either. It's unfortunate for all those who have made themselves totally reliant on us -- all the partners and children and co-workers and complete strangers, who have relied on us being longsuffering and indulgent towards them and their needs... all the incompetent boobs whom we've allowed to "slide" because they seemed like nice people... all the politicians who thought they could fool us into supporting whatever they wanted to do with our lives, our money, our offspring... all the people out there who have been relying on our not making a stink about things being oh, so very wrong... well, they're in for a rude awakening. Whether on a microcosmic or macrocosmic scale, the scale is tipping. And people are going to be in for rude awakenings. If they aren't already.

And so I'm bracing for the world's separation anxiety. Because Mommy isn't going to be around much longer in the form she held for so long. Mommy is ending her ovulation odyssey, and she's taking time for herself. Looking around at the world as it is right now, it seems to me that this is exactly what we're going through -- the world experiencing separation anxieties from all the Mommies who are stepping back and letting others go it alone, for once.

Indeed, much of the global conflict these days, strikes me as eerily familiar to the violent outbursts of two teenaged sons of a friend of mine. My partner and I were visiting her one weekend, and the boys were so upset that Mom wasn't paying exclusive attention to them, that they started to fight and ended up drawing blood. Much drama, just because Mommy's attention wasn't fully focused on them. And now that thousands upon tens of thousands of women are going through these changes each and every day, stepping back, paying attention to things other than everyone else's needs, the world is going through separation anxieties and acting out as a result.

Perhaps this is why women have been made to feel so self-conscious about this Change, over the generations. Because the people who depend on us staying the way we were, lo, those many, many years, don't want to see us coming into our own and leaving them and liking it. Or maybe so many women have gained so much power in their worlds from that old dynamic, that they can't bear the idea of relinquishing that power. Or maybe it's a whole host of contributing factors that can't be summarized in a paragraph, a blog, or a shelf full of books. But one thing is for sure -- the changes women go through after their physical mothering phase, do leave a lot of people high and dry, who would rather not be abandoned. Even if it does make Mommy feel better about herself.

Hot flashes of all types

Got up this morning and felt hot... thinking it's a hot flash, till I took a look at the thermostat and realized, yes, it is hot in here.

We're having unusually cold weather this morning, so the thermostat is bumped up to 64, which is actually hot for this house. For some reason (and I'm not complaining!) this house heats up very rapidly and stays warm, so we never have to keep our thermostat above 62.

Which is helpful on the heating bill.

But I didn't logon today to talk about that kind of feeling hot. I haven't had a full-blown hot flash in a number of weeks. What's more intense with me, these days, is my mood swings, my emotional hot flashes. It's quite bizarre, really. A part of me knows full well that the circumstances under which I'm living, are not cause for alarm or protest. Things are going really well for me, and I'm pretty even-keeled overall. But when I encounter little "snags" (like the telephone cord getting tangled up when I'm trying to straighten it out, or my computer not doing what I expect it to, when I click or press a button), I hit the roof. Instant rage boils in me, and with all my might, I want to break or throw something.

I don't feel this way openly, of course. For all my instantaneous rage, part of me knows very well that I'm overreacting to circumstances, and I don't let it show outwardly what's going on inside me. As the emotion wells up, the rational part of my brain reminds the irrational part, that I'm probably just having an emotional "hot flash" and that my interpretation of the situation (the telephone is plotting against me, and it always has, since the day I got it... my computer is a sullen little upstart who needs to be taught a lesson), does not necessarily correspond with reality or the perceptions of others.

So, I keep it to myself.

Of course, there are those proponents of not-holding-back who say it's unhealthy to hold it in. But the simple fact of the matter is, I have to hold in my emotional outbursts. Because:

a) They are in fact hormonal in nature and not necessarily grounded in reality

b) They are inexplicable to others, and serve only to upset hapless bystanders

c) They pass very quickly, unlike the results of me raging publicly and taking no prisoners with my outrage

d) It's just too embarassing to have to explain that I'm freaking out intensely over a handful of wires getting tangled up

I don't think that letting it all hang out, when it comes to my emotional hot flashes, is the wisest or most compassionate thing to do, so I don't.

And I think the world thanks me for it.

Which brings up another issue around this Change...

Fear of Heat... especially when it comes to women

I've noticed quite a lot, in the course of my past 39+ years, that few things are more frightening to people, than fiercely angry women. There's something about women's anger that freaks people out -- which I suppose is to be expected in a culture which values "nice girls" above "bad girls" and which devotes untold resources to reminding girls, from the time they're old enough to lift up Barbie's skirt to see what's under there... to the day they're wiping their babies' bottoms, that nice girls are good, and not-nice girls are unpopular. But for the life of me, I can't figure out why we're still wedded to this concept.

And I can't figure out why people are so frightened of angry women. Because they are. I've had people at work actually retaliate against me, because they were afraid of my justifiable anger over a situation that was professionally intolerable. I've had people in numerous situations all but run from me, when I vented a bit of anger over an unjust situation that anyone should be angry about. I've had all kinds of interesting responses to my outbursts of frustration, and there have been more than a few over the years. Not that I'm given to raging constantly, but when I see something that seems WRONG and no one's doing anything about it, well, I do get angry.

And people get scared. Why, I'm not sure. But they do.

It's a problem, really. And not just for me. Here we've got a whole generation of women who are getting hot under their collars (literally and figuratively) for many different reasons, but they aren't supposed to show it. I mean, it's one thing for me to show consideration to my fellow human beings by not giving full expression to my glass-melting rage over the tea kettle whistling 10 seconds prior to when I expect it to. But it's another thing, entirely, to tell a woman she's not entitled to feel that sort of rage, let alone express another form of it that might be perfectly justified -- such as rage over job discrimination which puts a single mother and her children at a disadvantage in life... or rage over the deaths of thousands upon thousands of civillians in the latest international conflict.

It's the second sort of prohibilition that worries me. And like the Prohibition of the 1900's, this prohibition of natural female outrage does us more harm that good. I can tell the difference between an irrational emotional hot flash, and a reason for righteous anger. And I'm judicious in how I handle each of them. And I should be allowed to vent the latter, when it's warranted.

There's got to be a better name for this, than "menopause"

I've grown increasingly dissatisfied with the use of the word "menopause" in describing what my body is going through these days. Even the word "perimenopause" doesn't cut it -- putting the "peri-" in front of "menopause" seems an ill-concealed attempt at making the process seem less notorious. But notorious it remains, for a variety of reasons. Most people still can't get past the concept of menopause signalling the end of a woman's useful life.

Okay, technically, it's accurate to refer to this change-of-life process as "the cessation of ovulation and menstrual periods." But that's not all I'm going through. It's not only my ovaries that are changing -- it's my whole hormonal system. The way I think, the way my body uses nutrients, the way I sleep, the way my hair and nails and tissues are built. I'm producing varying amounts of progesterone and estrogen, and that affects much more of me, than just my ovaries. Even when I am bleeding, I'm still experiencing all the other symptoms that go along with this Change. To make this process ovulation-centric seems just a tad myopic.

Indeed, it's myopic and over-simplified. The end of ovulation is only one aspect of a whole re-wiring of my system that's going on. And to frame it in purely reproductive terms, not only diminishes me as a whole person with much more to off than an egg each month, but it over-simplifies a complex transition. If this Change were as simple as just ceasing ovulation, then it would be a quick once-and-done kind of thing. But ceasing to produce eggs is only one symptom of many during my Change; therefore, to make it all about my menstrual identity, is just plain simple-minded.

What's more, when we make this change only about women's reproduction, we alienate half of the population from a transition which affects them, as it does us. The men of the world are impacted by the changes in our internal chemistry and "coding," and to reserve the change as a purely female reproductive one, cuts them out of the process and unnecessarily mystifies it. It's a hormonal change -- but it's one that impacts our relations with them in the social realm, not only the intimate physical one. Everyone is changed, as we change, and not only our internal organs.

Sure, there's "male menopause," but I've heard the term used more as an alternative for "mid-life crisis" or even as a joke, than seriously. Besides, calling it "male menopause" is a contradiction in terms -- "meno-" refers to menstruation. If they bled for 5 days, every month for a quarter century, it would be one thing. But no man that I know, ever has. So, let's do away with the term "menopause" when we talk about their hormonal changes.

What we need is a whole new word that's more viable than "menopause" and which can apply to both men and women. How about "vitamorph" ("vita"from the Latin "life, way of life" and "morph" from a variation of "metamorphose" from the Latin/Greek which means "to transform"). It really IS a change of life we're going through -- and change of life should not be a euphemsism for menopause -- rather recognized as the overarching reality of this time in our lives.

Menopause inappropriate indicates a brief cessation -- and it's not. It's a done deal -- the end of the mixed blessing of a woman's reproductive life. But it's not the end that so many people make it out to be, for there's far more to women than their reproduction. And the change affects more people than just the women going through the Change.

I'm not perimenopausal. Nor will I be menopausal. I will be vitamorphing. Along with the millions of other women, who will number in the tens of millions in another 20 years or so.

Too much information...

I've been roaming around the web for a while, now, looking for information about (peri)menopause that's written by someone who's a) personally invested and b) willing to share their information for the purpose of assisting others to make sound choices with their bodies.

I've found:

Lots of folks who are selling something-or-other to "relieve symptoms" -- both pharmaceutical and herbal. While I'm sure that a lot of them mean well, I wonder if it's really, truly possible for so many different viable options to exist? I mean, every woman has a different experience, sure, but does every woman on the face of the earth need a separate and distinct product for her symptoms? I think there's been a huge glut of products flooding onto the marketplace in response to the massive market (peri)menopausal women represent. When 5,000 new customers are created each day, someone in sales-and-marketing has to sit up and take notice.

I predict that in the coming 3-5 years, a number of these products will "fizzle out" as they fail to promote themselves properly or capture the kind of market that can sustain them. Right now, we've got a whole lot of products out there, but survival of brands in this particular segment isn't necessarily going to depend on branding -- it's going to depend on effectiveness. I mean, you can wrap a "menopausal relief" product in pretty packaging, but if it fails to deliver what it promises, well, the market will not sustain it.

So, unlike some brand creations, where we see things invented and then aggressively marketed, and then surviving due to brand recognition and market share, the menopausal relief market is going to be determined by effectiveness -- whether something works or not.

The same goes for health care. It's all very well and good for a doctor to prescribe such-and-such, but when test results come back and clearly state that such-and-such increases your risk for cancer, well, how does an establishment adjust to the decrease in patient trust? How, indeed? On the one hand, you have an establishment which is very fond of telling women (and men) that they need to consult with their doctors before they take any action, and on the other hand, you have women (and men) experiencing physical symptoms which change with the wind and which demand immediate attention, doctor or no doctor in the house.

The medical trend, I believe, will move towards more collaboration between women and their healthcare providers (be they doctors, nurse practitioners, naturopaths, chiropractors... you name it). I don't see any other way -- after all, our medical care is voluntary, and if a woman doesn't much care for what her doctor tells her to do, she just won't do it. She'll throw the pills away. She'll refuse treatment of one kind or another. She'll take matters into her own hands. And doctors, though they may insist that they're the only expert in the room, will have to deal with the fact that their patients have the final say in what goes into, or is done to, their bodies.

I've also found a lot of duplicate information (online pollution, some call it) as well as conflicting reports. Some say emotional problems are inevitable with menopause, others say they have nothing to do with the Change. Some say you'll have these symptoms, other say you'll have fewer -- or more. No one can quite agree on what exactly takes place, which seems odd, since millions of women from time immemorial have gone through this process.

And no one knows for sure, what can/will/might happen? How can this be?

I think it has to do with being overly cautious... being afraid of being (mis)quoted or even sued over information passed along... hedging one's bets... or just plain not knowing, but still being determined to make your mark in the market. After all, something like 40 million women are menopausal right now, and there's money to be made.

I think it also has to do with hyper-timidity when it comes to menopause. The topic has been off limits for so long, with all those myths and misconceptions attached to it that date back to the days when menopause literally happened at or near the end of a woman's (short) life. In the olden days, if a woman was lucky enough to survive the births of all her children, and managed to make it through all those years of backbreaking work and inhumane conditions, she was an exception to the rule -- and a lot of times, she was probably half deaf/blind/insane to boot.

But we haven't had olden days like that in quite some time, and the realities of women's lengthening lives demand re-examination. We demand re-definition. Refusing to talk about menopause is rapidly becoming ridiculous. And holding to all the old myths about it -- that we'll dry up (we don't all), that we'll lose our minds (some get smarter, after their change), that we have nothing to contribute (many women have more than ever) -- is just plain silly.

My prediction for the next 3-5 years for this is (if I have anything to say about it) that women will be a lot less reluctant to talk about their Change in hushed tones, that they'll be able to face it squarely and honestly and see it as a part of their justifyably long lives, not run from it as a wretchedly dehumanizing sentence of indefinite house arrest.

Even Martha Stewart gets to take off her ankle bracelet in 5 months. Why shouldn't we women be willing to take off the constraints of an unjust and foolishly prejudiced world, as well?

What else have I noticed?

Well, that all those menopause discussion forums are going largely unused by the women they were created for. There are a number of useful sites out there which have discussion forums and boards where women can gather and talk about their experiences. But unless I'm looking in the wrong places, only a few women are actually talking about their lives.

I figure it's because:

1) it's depressing -- a lot of folks only start to reach out when things get bad
2) we're busy -- 'cause (peri)menopause has a way of setting in, when we're at our busiest -- cruel trick of fate, that
3) everyone is saying the same things -- and once you find the solution to your problem, you move on with your busy life, rather than hanging out to see what others are saying
4) everyone is saying different things -- and it's not always possible to relate or find a reliable solution to your unique situation

I'm sure there are other reasons, but these are the ones that spring to the top of my head.

Bottom line is -- I'm quite dissatisfied with what I'm finding online. Either there's too much information, or there's not enough. It's just not good enough. Or maybe I'm just being perimenopausal... ;)