Reality Check 1, Cheque 2, Check Me!

Check 1

“Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman. Givin’ all your love to just one man…”

Tammy Wynette ~ Stand By Your Man

Have you ever heard a song and thought, “Yessss! THAT PART!” Well personally, I believe Tammy needn’t have gone on with the rest of the song; she’d already done killed it with the one opening line. (To those of you who know the rest of the lyrics to Stand By Your Man and are thinking tea is about to be spilt, you really couldn’t be further from the bloody truth!)

Granted 2020 hit differently for a lot of people and for many reasons, but for me, it wasn’t just a hit – it was a series of knockout punches to the solar plexus that continued relentlessly. In a few short, (yet feeling extremely long) months, I had to contend with more grief, toxicity and bullshit than I had ever known or knew what to do with. I’m relatively “strong” but it was all getting a bit too much. On top of that I moved house which, thanks to covid, bought with it new challenges.

I can admit now to feeling all kinds of a way. My emotions were all over the place and as much as I tried to fix up and find the fight and positivity, it was all getting me down. I’d talk to friends and family but never really fully expressing just how shitty I felt. I was struggling but trying to put up a good front. I had been trying to keep myself occupied during lockdown by learning new skills, but found I couldn’t retain information, which in turn made me feel even worse and as thick as the shit I was feeling.

I didn’t want to do anything. Netflix, Disney+ and music were my best friends. I didn’t want to write. I didn’t want to read. I didn’t want to do fuck all but tune out and virtually escape as due to lockdown, it was physically impossible to do so. Everything was getting to me or stressing me out. I knew I needed some kind of help so thought I’d try Talking Therapies, which was helpful to some degree, but even with understanding all they were saying I just couldn’t get my emotions in check and I knew there was more to it.

As a woman of a certain age it’s inevitable that there’s a journey we go through with our bodies, and I’ve recently had more signs that it was on its way; only to be told by the professionals after enquiring that that wasn’t the case. All the while my body was hollering, “Nah bee, they’re lying to you!”

I’m not sure of what percentage of males will read this but I’d like to believe they’re man enough to handle this topic, if only to garner a little sympathy for what any females in their life could possibly be experiencing.

I can be as cool as you like one minute, the next I’m making radiators jealous with the heat emanating from my body. Added to that is the joy of night sweats – as naturally you’ve gotta share the love throughout the whole 24 hours. I’ve mentioned it once…or maybe twice…possibly a little more to certain males in my vicinity that y’all don’t realise just how good you actually have it when it comes to your bodies.

As women, from a young age ours prepare us for the prospect of temporary lodgings for a baby. And yes, bringing new life into the world is a blessing, but pregnancy offers up a whole range of different, not so pleasant experiences that accompany the magic; and regardless of whether we want to have children or not, we still have the ‘joy’ of our monthly visitor to look forward to.

Understand the word joy is dripping with sarcasm. It is in fact the polar opposite. Some women manage to breeze through theirs without a hitch, but from my very first one they’ve been a bitch! I started at 10 and I’m nearly 47 now. Decades of hell and no, they didn’t ease up after having babies as I’d heard can happen. I’ve had a few reprieves due to the contraceptive pill, but they just lull you into a false sense of security. You’re all good living your period free life, then WHAM!!, they come back at you with a vengeance even John McClane would struggle to deal with.

The reality of periods is that although they help to bring about life, they can also bring with them a whole heap of mess and pain. In correlation to the pain, it can be doubled for some if on top of the monthly beat down you’re getting, you are trying to get pregnant and sadly not succeeding. It is, after all, supposed to be the one upside of having the buggers.

I in no way feel like my youth is slipping away and I wholeheartedly embrace Aunty stature. It’s time for those bitch ass eggs to dry the hell up and leave me in peace.

I 100% feel for all of those who are in that position, and I’m aware that as much as I’m cursing periods out that they too are a blessing, and I have two beautiful daughters to show for them, BUT – I HAVE SERVED MY TIME! Things were bad enough when they were regular, but now it’s a lucky dip as to how long my cycle will be and I’m guaranteed it’ll be flowing like the Orinoco. That’s just another delight that comes with being the bearer of heavy, painful periods. You’re constantly on edge. Whispering silent prayers as you stand up that that gush that was supposed to be held back by your layers of leakproof (yeh, right) protection hasn’t soaked through to your clothes.

It’s little wonder that going out is the last thing I want to do. It’s bad enough being paranoid of leaking whilst sat at home in bed with chronic back and stomachache whilst munching on a bag of sweet and salty popcorn, getting bleary eyed over a restoration on The Repair Shop, without the added pressure of being outside somewhere and having an accident that you have to try and sort out in some manky toilet. There are way too many variables to take the risk.

If you’re as truly blessed as I am, you’ll also have the ‘joy’ of being an emotional, hormonal wreck before, during and after your cycle. The urge to wanna fuck someone up over what would possibly be seen as a minor infringement to others is overwhelmingly phenomenal. These hands could do damage if you chew wrong, so it’s best to keep myself to myself! I went back to the professionals to get checked out and they found I’m currently extremely anaemic (I can’t think why), and I’m awaiting a scan to check and see if my fibroids have grown.

Just know that to put it bluntly, my periods have fucked me sideways for way too long and I’m sooo over them. I in no way feel like my youth is slipping away and I wholeheartedly embrace Aunty stature. It’s time for those bitch ass eggs to dry the hell up and leave me in peace.

I’ve only given you the highlights. There are many more facets I could really go in-depth and tell you about, like clots, sore boobs and the period shits, but I don’t wanna spoil you too much. After doing some research and listening to some ladies who are working their way through the menopause (aka, menace – no pause), I realised that it’s more than likely the reason as to why I’m finding it so hard to function and I’m not going to beat myself up over it anymore. It is what it is.

Sometimes you have to check yourself before you wreck yourself and that’s exactly what I’m doing. Tammy was right. Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman, but I’ll be damned if I’m giving ALL my love to just one man. That’s not to say I don’t love mine and I’ll naturally stand by him, but as women we physically go through a lot in comparison to what men do – and self love is where we need to start.

Stand By Yo’ Ass!

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.