Growing up and while in my 20’s and 30’s, I’d always heard “myths” about menopause. You know the stories about the tell-tale signs!

**Hot flashes
**Weight gain
**Facial hair
**Sleep Disorders
**Mood swings

Doesn’t really rate high up on the “Can’t wait to get there” scale.

**And finally, the one I’d always heard. . . It only lasts for about six months. **insert loud buzzer** WRONG!

I had to have my womanly parts yanked out when I was 30 years old. (Thank goodness I’d already had my two boys) They told me then that I could go through menopause at any time in the next 20 years. Well, I made it 10. In my early 40’s, things started to change. And I remember feeling self-assured that it would only last six months. I could make it six months. Piece of cake. That was EIGHT years ago.

Which brings me to that last one. I’ll address the last one first because that’s the biggest crock of all of them. Menopause can last as long as it bloody well wants to last. According to my reading, it can seriously last anywhere from six to thirteen years. YEARS, people! Welcome to my hell world.

Hot flashes! This seem to be the keynote sympton to menopause. The one thing that states “Game On”. The change of life is here. But I want to set one thing straight right now. When I say hot flashes, I mean it is NO. JOKE. HOT! There’s no warming up to hot. It’s not like Nelly’s song “It’s gettin’ hot in here” hot. NO – it’s like you’re perfectly fine one second and the next second, you’re blazing-on-fire-you-think-you’re-going-to-die-strip-till-you’re-naked-right-this-second-hot. I had the majority of my hot flashes during the winter which worked out really well for me (well, as well as hot flashes can go anyway). However, I LOOKED like a freak of nature to everyone I knew, and more especially, those that I didn’t know. I went to work that entire winter wearing my summer clothes, skirts, tank tops, sandals. Not a single coat/jacket/sweater in sight. Not once that entire winter did those particular garments touch this body. I was walking across the parking lot going into my office one morning and a lady slightly older than I just looked at me (she didn’t even make a face as most people did) and simply said, “Menopause?” Me – “Yep”. Enough said. End of conversation.

But then there was home and . . . my children. Not once did I turn the heat on in the house because I was certain that I would DIE. I kept my bedroom windows wide open (but I had my door closed so not to freeze out the rest of the house) and I walked around in shorts and a t-shirt. I remember my oldest boy coming to me several times. He was wearing three layers of clothes and a beanie on his head telling me, “MOM! I can see my breath in the house!!” I’m sitting there in my t-shirt perfectly fine explaining how I would melt into a puddle if I turned on the heat. Did he really want me to melt? He didn’t answer that.

Weight gain! **insert buzzer** I think it’s different for everybody. I, personally, haven’t gained anything. BUT! Oh, there IS a BUT! But, your body shifts. I mean it totally reshapes itself. It morphes into something that you never signed up for. My entire behind moved. I didn’t lose it. It just MOVED. It moved to my midsection. Left my behind (not that I ever had much of one) altogether. Gone. Welcome to my midsection. But then comes in the whole “care factor” and it’s not that big of a deal. Ten years ago, I’d have been destroyed by this morphysis, but now. . . not so much. I am who I am. Now, I just am with a little baby belly and NO ass at all.

Facial hair! Really? Now I KNOW that God has a sense of humor. Why else would he do this to women? Seriously! Wrinkles aren’t enough? He has to throw in a mustache as icing on the cake?! Well, thank goodness that I’m blonde! It’s not HORRIBLY noticeable, but I DO have to shave it off every now and then. It’s just not fair. We already have to shave our legs and our armpits. So I was thinking maybe I could let it grow and I could shape myself a handlebar mustache. You know, start a trend. (I just made myself shudder in thought)

Sleep Disorders! This one is not even funny. I NEED MY SLEEP! Throw in the hot flashes (which are then termed night sweats – FUN times!) and you are one miserable puppy. This has been going on now for several years for me. It comes and goes, but mostly it comes. A month or so ago, I went two whole weeks straight where I slept all night and the difference was so noticeable in how much better I felt. I was happier than usual, more carefree, less likely to take someone’s head off. I thought my sleep loss had come to an end. Then the sleep robber came again. This week has been especially bad and I. AM. EXHAUSTED. Monday night, I slept fantastic. . . from 11pm until 1am. Then WIDE awake the rest of the night. Tuesday night, I slept great from 11pm until 2:06am., then again, wide awake. Wednesday night, I got a whopping four hours of sleep. I made it until 3:10am! I almost threw a party, except I had no energy. I’m like a drained noodle. Which leads me to. . .

Mood swings! What can I say? Hormones are shifting and they wreak havoc in many forms. It’s everything from crying for no apparent reason, to blowing a gasket if the toilet paper is upside down on the little spinny thing. And there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it. But I think it’s so much more than that. I think the mood swings/hormone shifting has shifted my entire attitude. My “What’s Most Important” ideals have changed as well. My “Who Gives A Shit” factor – shifted. And my “Tolerance For Bullshit” has. left. the. building. One might consider me a tad cranky. I don’t see it that way though. I see it as the vail of pretense has been lifted. What you see is what you get. I’m too old to play games, but I’m old enough to have learned what really matters. And whether I drive a fancy car, or buy highend clothes, whether a neighbor likes me or not, or whether I’m having a bad hair day and a zit that would rival any volcano. . . really? Does any of that REALLY matter in the grand scheme of things? Will I remember any of it five years from now? Probably not. So who gives a shit? Do you have any idea how refreshing that feels? I feel ten pounds lighter without all that worry.

To summarize. . . hormones SUCK.