My body is in a permanent state of rebellion. This is the only conclusion I can come to. It never seems to do what I want it to do. From hair (not just on my head) to nails to joints to internal organs, something is always going haywire. Take antiperspirant, mine suddenly stopped working last week, in the middle of a hot spell, when we don't have air conditioning. Now I'm borrowing my husband's until I find one that works. Is this a part of OMG menopause? No no no no! Why, oh why does my body hate me?
I think we should just get one thing straight, I'm fat okay. I know this, I have known this since I was 9 and hit pre-puberty with a 30 pound weight gain. It's a pattern with all the women in my family who are smart and funny, with big hearts and equally big bodies. I am a Weight Watchers failure; in 6 months on the program I lost 9.75 pounds. I never could get that last quarter pound off. After I was put on fen-phen, and I had to have an ECG at 28, I decided that the diet industry would get no more money from me. In the ensuing years, I have dropped 70 pounds from my all time high, just by not dieting. It's not a lifestyle choice, so I don't want to hear about it, I just decided that food was food. Please, please, please do not try to use this post as a way to tout your favorite diet/food philosophy/exercise regime, I am not interested.
And the point I was making is that trying to force my body into some artificial paradigm of health or beauty makes it want to rebel. I hate my hair, it's thin, fine, curly, wavy, flat, easily tangled and that non-color between blond and brown. It really doesn't matter what product I use, what styling I do, give it 10 minutes outside of the bathroom and it flattens and curls until I look like I have 3 hairs on my head and they are all on crack. And don't get me started on the rest of the hair. I've just started menopause and I grow a more luxurious mustache than my husband. Plucking my face requires bright sunlight, a magnifying mirror and a couple of tokes to keep the hands steady. Shaving has become an exercise in terror since I have a disabled foot and the bathtub is slippery. I come out looking like I was attacked by Freddy Kruger.
Speaking of my disabled foot, I have what's called a charcot foot. It happens when diabetes destroys the circulation to the feet and the bones become brittle and break down. I have a lump on the bottom of my foot that is all bone and callus. I'm supposed to use orthotics but they don't fit in shoes with the extra room already taken up by the foot. I could get custom shoes made, but I'm in mourning for all the cute shoes I can never wear because of the foot. And my balance, bad hips, bad knees, and bad back are all vying for the reason why extended walking is a torture. Let's just say that the muscular-skeletal system is as broken as the rest of me.
Speaking of hot mess, anyone else want to know what it's like to have a hot flash? It feels like you're burning only from the inside out. Hot flashes in 90 degree heat are why I am certain there is no hell, because I've been there and it is a 43 year old woman suffering from early menopause secure in the knowledge that it will take years to finish.
When you're a toddler you learn to go to the bathroom, you learn to hold it until it's second nature to wait until you get to the bathroom. Then you start losing muscle tone everywhere, and all of a sudden, you're back in diapers. I am a grown woman and I can't stop peeing.
My nerves are shot thanks to neuropathy. I can't eat eggs, cheese, salads, apples, anything with sugar, anything with artificial sweeteners, or anything too rich or fatty or my stomach will blow up like a balloon and I float away like Harry Potter's Aunt Marge. My skin is sensitive to everything and the skin on my fingers is bubbling and peeling from eczema. I still get tonsillitis and ear infections, and I'm pretty sure I have a rash right now. I have a host of mental illnesses that make it tough for me to get out of bed some days. And now I'm sweating again.
I wish I could trade my body in on a new model. I wish I could live with my head separate from my body. I'm hoping that my mind and my body can broker a truce, a cease fire if you will. Otherwise I'm going to need that new body, mine is seceding from the union.