This Month Gives One Pause

October is World Menopause Awareness Month.  Ladies (of a certain age), I will let that sink in for a minute....  I have tried to envision the decorative door wreath I could make for this month. I see a circle of dried up flowers and leaves to which I would hot glue small battery operated fans, granny panties and shredded pieces of my divorce decree.  Now I know not every woman has the kind of brutal menopause that I experienced.  There is always that one friend that says she barely noticed it happening (I want to throat punch that friend, by the way).  But, most women who have gone, or are going through menopause have similar experiences of varying degrees.  It is a shared sisterhood and the loneliest existence, at the same time.

I won't go into a lengthy, detailed description of the ten long years that it took me to navigate the three stages of menopause, but here are the highlights.  Perimenopause:  weight gain, fatigue, and a personality shift to rival Jekyl and Hyde.  Menopause:  Sleepless, sweat soaked nights ending with me sitting on the back patio at 2:00 am, trying to cool down while chain smoking, crying, and plotting my sleeping husband's death.  Post Menopause:  Aside from the permanent belly fat and dry skin, pretty blissful, sort of like floating in a calm bay after riding out a violent ocean storm in a very small boat during which you went way off course and your husband fell overboard.

Looking back, it's easy to laugh about, but menopause was a confusing and difficult time that had it's onset right, smack dab in the middle of what should have been the best time of my life.  I may be a wee bit bitter about it now, but being a woman means navigating the deep complexities and contradictions that comprise us.  I'm not sure just one month is enough awareness or too much, but suffice to say, my menopause experience has compelled me to speak out here in my blog, through my social media, talking one-on-one with other women, and even in a theatrical monologue about the profound meaning this transition has in a woman's journey.  Perhaps the most universal experience among the women I have shared with is the feeling of being invisible.  

So instead of crafting a door wreath, I think I will just walk up to every middle aged woman I encounter this month and say, "I see you."

SEH

I'm So Bored!!

I'm so bored!  Have I run out of projects?  No.  Am I unable to connect with (vaccinated) friends over coffee?  No.  Do I have a legitimate reason (aside from the hot temps outside) to stay isolated in my little apartment, rarely venturing out except to shop for groceries or drive thru Sonic for a breakfast burrito?  Not really.  Have I lost the will to do all of these things?  Yes.  And, as a result of losing the impetus to exert any energy for even basic chores, I am bored out of my mind!

In case you are tempted to diagnosis my ennui, believe me when I tell you I am not depressed, I am not ill, I really can't even blame my advanced age (66 is the new 65 after all), I am just bored.  So if we are going to unpack any psychosis today, let's unpack "pandemic induced boredom".

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines bored as "the state of being weary and restless through lack of interest".  I gave this definition a great deal of thought.  Why have I lost interest?  I mean, in reality my life hasn't significantly changed much during this pandemic.  I am retired, so I'm not missing my job.  I live alone and enjoy living alone, able to pick and chose those times I want to be by myself and when I want to be social.  So what is the problem?!  What has caused my get-up-and-go to grind to a halt?  I have a couple of theories.

One, the few activities that I have not been able to enjoy because of Covid (community theater productions and festivals/concerts/parties) turned out to be more important to my mental well being than I realized.

Two, the idea that new activities that could give me good excuses for putting off the mundane daily chores/activities are not presenting themselves these days.  I had no idea how much I thrive on engaging with new people, new challenges and new places.  I am also developing guilty feelings about my lack of desire to do laundry or clean house, activities I pre-pandemic felt no guilt whatsoever about ignoring.

So what am I saying here?  I suppose the lack of "distractions" is what Merriam-Webster is describing as my "interest".  I realize that so many of us are having very real mental issues surviving this difficult time, and my boredom is, in the big picture, a petty complaint.  In the words of my friend, Shana Ledet Qualls, I need to scratch my ass and get happy.  So I will stop complaining.  Thanks for listening to my TED talk.

Can You Keep a Secret?

ag·o·ra·pho·bi·a

/ˌaɡərəˈfōbēə/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. extreme or irrational fear of entering open or crowded places, of leaving one's own home, or of being in places from which escape is difficult.

So, Dear Hearts, let's talk dirty, little secrets.  Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.  Okay, that's maybe a bit melodramatic, not to mention misleading, but I do have a secret.  A secret that would probably surprise almost all of my friends and acquaintances.  A secret that has been, for most of my life, merely an aggravation.  Until the pandemic.  Then, my aggravating little secret became "a thing". 

I think I can say, with confidence, that most people who know me would describe me as outgoing, friendly, fun loving, self confident, and, dare I say, fearless.  And, for the most part, they would be right.  In all fairness, there are also folks who would contend I'm sarcastic, foul mouthed, and lazy.  They would also be right.  However, I doubt hardly anyone would guess that I have a secret phobia that goes against all of those descriptors.

I have a fear of grocery stores.  Specifically, large grocery stores.  More specifically, grocery mega-stores.  I can't explain this phobia or point to any horrific grocery store incident that sparked it.  I was not frightened as a child by a mean grocer or ever experienced a humiliating moment in the produce aisle.  Nope, nothing in my past can account for this irrational fear, it simply is what it is.  The fear manifests itself mainly as anxiety.  Although, I have never had an anxiety "attack", per se, in a grocery store, I do experience increased heart rate, occasional, slight dizziness, and an overwhelming desire to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible.  My anxiousness has, at times, had me circling the parking lot again and again, while trying to summon the courage to park and go inside, or giving up all together and resorting to gas station mini-marts.  Obviously, I found lots of go-arounds to my problem over the years.  The best solution was to seek out small, mom & pop stores that were much more comfortable to navigate (sadly, big grocery store chains have nearly wiped out small, locally owned grocers).  Other remedies included shopping with a roommate or friend (I'm only anxious when I'm alone), or sending ones husband to do the shopping for you (my ex-husband does not know his love of shopping was one of the things I liked about him most).

As I stated, this fear had always been kind of aggravating, but not something I considered debilitating or even odd.  That was until the Covid-19 pandemic.  As the months of isolation and fear of contracting the virus began to mount, I found my anxiety over grocery shopping began to increase as well.  Indeed, anxiousness over leaving my house for any reason began seeping into my psyche.  Now, it was becoming a thing.  And, as I was to discover upon doing some research, this thing was a form of agoraphobia and, apparently, with regard to grocery stores, more common than one might think.  According to medical data, the anxiety can be brought on by a fear of large, enclosed spaces or lots of people and noise.  Another factor, which I think is the root of my anxiety, is the over abundance of choices, which explains why I find small stores with fewer aisles and products more comfortable.

So why am I sharing about my secret phobia with you today?  Well, although I am aware in the big picture a grocery store phobia is probably among the least problematic phobias, it's only recently that I have been able to talk about my struggle.  Because I know the current state of affairs in our world is causing us all to experience a general sense of anxiety and foreboding, it occurred to me that if someone with a mild, specific phobia such as mine is feeling this tense in general, lots of you, Dear Hearts, are having a similar reaction.  I also understand that some days the hardest thing you have to do is make the walk from your front door to your car door.  You are not alone.

So now you know my best kept secret (if you believe that...).  Honestly, it wasn't until I read up on agoraphobia that I could make some real sense of my aversion to grocery stores.  I also recognize how my grocery phobia can expand to other aspects of my day to day life and I need to find ways to ease the tension this isolation can exacerbate. I still don't like grocery stores, but now it seems okay not to like them, and, consequently, I feel a little less anxious about them.  Weird, right?

Keeping it weird,

SEH

P.S.  If any of you experience my same phobia regarding large grocery stores, I would love to hear any advice on how you manage it.  Just comment below.