Post #4

As dry as the Sahara?

The Chaos Report · Filed under: Hot Flashes, Cold Feet, and Bad Decisions

Well TOTAL SWEATY BOLLOCKS to it, I have reached a NEW LOW. And it has me questioning my femininity DAMMIT! My libido has departed and the worst thing is (if I’m honest, well is a Crone cranky? FOR SURE) I don’t really miss it. My ego is saying, you’re a woman, get laid, do it now, do it often, writhe around like a Rodeo-Queen! But my body? It’s playing Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus, total communication breakdown. My younger pre-Crone self is standing shaking her cute little hips and dainty finger at me and swishing her hair about. She says I am a traitor to myself, but you know what pre-Crone me, “be quiet, you know NOTHING. Just you wait until it happens to you.” I reply and shake my crooked finger right back at her ‘just want to bite into you’ plump juiciness.

Like the cheeky bastard that perimenopause is, this little ‘treat’ sneaked up on me like a cowardly thief in the night, unnoticed. But I REALLY didn’t expect my libido to be taken hostage like it has. Joke’s on them though because I won’t be paying the ransom any time soon. But you know I do miss the intimacy with my husband. Tatter Cloak’s a very kind and patient man (and I suspect he might be suffering his own hormonal crisis or Man-o-Pause as I like to call it). But we have an understanding, “please take care of business as you like, just no cheating.” He nods because he’s a practical man and sexy after all, and gives the correct answer, “I wouldn’t dare,” and other loving things about my little finger being sexier than anyone else’s, well you get the picture! But he’s my partner in crime after all and when experiments need to be carried out in the realm of Crone body rebellion, he’s happy to help.

So last time I mentioned my labia grinning and sticking to my thighs, nice. But I didn’t tell you that I no longer know the state of the interior. Of course intercourse has been getting harder as I shut up shop down there and so I had no idea how things were looking, or rather feeling. I haven’t noticed much discharge unless you count coughing, laughing and wetting myself at the most inappropriate times, like standing in a queue at the supermarket – thank FUCK for the piss pants aisle. But yep just ANOTHER joyful jab from my HATEFUL REBELLIOUS pelvic region.

So with TC’s help I see that things while feeling firm, are dry. Not as dry as the Sahara, but not great either. I imagine they feel a bit like my tongue after a drinking session, or when I’ve been mouth-breathing all night. Not quite at danger danger, low levels but bad enough. Now as a curious Crone, I’m not against a good prod and poke, but screw that! Exploration was painful and help was needed. On the plus side I did manage to get some flow going after a bit of encouragement. But that was as far as I was willing to go, although I liked Tatter Cloak strutting about in the nude looking very handsome, it wasn’t enough. Could have been Christopher Reeve (my all time fave hunky specimen), and still there’d not be a flutter. I’m beginning to see pre-Crone, me’s point. THIS IS PATHETIC AND I SHOULD BE BOTHERED BY IT!

Sex is important whether you do it solo, with a partner or just start by thinking about it. But we have discovered a couple of things. 1. I need help to get juices flowing. 2. It takes a while to think about or even achieve an orgasm. So now I definitely need to get hold of some topical estrogen gel, to help lubricate and thicken the vaginal tissues. Some of my Sister Crones (we have a weekly support group) like to apply the dose inside, then rub the leftovers it all around from clitoris to anus. Waste not, want not. That stuff is gold dust!

Remember those days when a tight vagina was a real badge of honor? You’d have men feeling like porn stars and strutting like peacocks because of it. The reality is NOT FUN, there’s no exaggerated moaning or whipping around like a cowgirl. Just micro tears and bleeding, pressure, burning, itching, stabbing pain, the lot. Literally FUCKING PAINFUL, but painful sex is a big symptom of declining estrogen and this HELL BEAST has a name, Dyspareunia. The thinning vaginal walls lose elasticity and become rigid (so to all the cosplaying porn star stallions, it’s not you, it’s me!) and the lack of lubrication makes sex about as sexy as doing a tax return (while both may be considered equally painful). Don’t forget the emotional loss. Intimacy BOOM, blown to the winds. Thank GOODNESS for Tatter Cloak and his manly arms and blinding cuppa-making abilities.

Ironic that my body doesn’t mind pissing itself randomly but when it comes to getting juiced up? But not a sausage (literally) when I need it. I’m starting to think camels will start clomping out of my vagina, or in this case my vaDRYna.

Crone Moan complete