Post #40
Trying to relax - learning what works
The Incident Report · Classification: Highly Strung · Mission Status: Attempting to Chill
I know this is really fucking hard to believe but I’ve always been a bit highly strung, some call it a type-A personality. All about control and other similar ugly words. So it won’t shock you to hear that I struggle to relax. My brain is going like a freight train with no stop signal and I have more energy than a normal human being. Granted that energy has tanked along with the lowered estrogen and testosterone but I still do more than my body allows because I'm a stubborn hag.
Sitting down to relax isn’t really a thing, going for a lovely walk in nature isn’t either. Besides where I live there’s more nature in Chernobyl. And at least there, the super-wolves glow in the dark when they hunt you!
But as FUCKING usual brain fog derails me and I’m getting off track. Jeez sorry about the train puns! That’ll be my sodden brain trying to make connections (oops there it goes again!). I enjoy sitting watching good old gruesome revenge porn or a detective show. Give me Reacher and Neagley all day long and I’ll feel as chillaxed as a student with their first bong. For exercising the brain Bosch delivers the stealth and classy non-gratuitous suspense! Hrm what else?
I do enjoy scribbling and illustrating though. As part of improving my self-image I have lots of self-portraits on my Instagram page, you might have seen them. Not quite Vincent Van Gogh but I admit I’m QUITE the looker! Creating art, yes relaxing to an extent but maybe that’s just catharsis? Cooking? Nah got bored of that I’d rather eat sardines out of a tin and smell like the cat.
What about a spa day? Good grief no! I can’t think of anything worse than listening to pan pipes and smelling joss sticks (my heightened sense of smell, thank the EVIL perimenopause fairy, couldn’t handle it), some therapist sticking hot stones down my back and slathering me in a seaweed wrap. Don’t get me wrong, been there done it. I’ve even been pummeled like a lump of bread dough in a Turkish hammam by an Andre the Giant look-alike and had pebbles glowing like space rocks placed on me in Bali. All very nice when you’re young and well and hormones are even. When you are me, hating random strangers pawing at you, you fucking well want to commit violence with said stones and wet towels!
You can see the problem here, can’t you? I need to chill but can’t chill. It wasn’t always like this and you know by now it’s the hormones. EVERYTHING is about the hormones. Changing estrogen and progesterone levels during perimenopause can affect sleep, mood and the brain systems involved in responding to stress. Progesterone also has metabolites that act on GABA receptors, which are involved in calming the nervous system. Add a few sleepless nights and it’s no wonder I feel on high alert, wired and ready to run. The last thing you want is to be tied to a fucking spa bed listening to Temu Peruvian Enya warbling in a small room when you want to flee!
So what works for someone like me (and maybe even you)? In my case telling my nervous system to shut the fuck up. I get hold of my Poochie plushie. Or even grab a cat if the little shit will let me. Better still the dog who really loves being petted, and hold him captive on the sofa!
It’s a hard life being a perimenopausal stress ball but we’ll get through it one step at a time!
PARTNERS IN CRONE