Tag: Aging

Getting shit done at 4AM

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | Leave a Comment on Getting shit done at 4AM

I’ve always had insomnia and extreme anxiety. We know that. I’ve had a sleep study done. I live in a perpetual state of “my sister will come in and start hitting me for leaving the TV on QVC again at any moment.” They were like you just have “spontaneous arousal” plus periodic limb movement disorder. So basically after every REM cycle, I come back up to near wake — which means pretty much ANYTHING is gonna pop me to fully awake. So I don’t get those ever deepening REM cycles. And yeah, I’m crazy.

So when perimenopause causes insomnia and anxiety — what happens when you already have those? WHAT HAPPENS?

You know what happens? You just start freaking the fuck out and you never sleep. I’m on staycation supposed to be relaxing but I can’t sleep. This is me doing laundry at 4am. I woke up to pee and was like fuck it, I’m not going to fall asleep for a few hours. I should do laundry.

That’s my staycation. I don’t have to freak out about my sleep schedule and husband is gone so I’m not disturbing anyone. Great time for this. I haven’t put up my laundry in at least over a month. Well over. But there’s always something I’d rather do. But hey, 4am, let’s do it.

Look! All my Duluth camisoles are clean!

Yes, I do have one in every color they’ve put out since I discovered them. I don’t know why three of those colors are shades of purple, but whatever. These are camisoles with built in bras. NOT a shelf bra. I don’t even know what the fuck a shelf bra is for. Like that only holds the shirt to your boobs. There’s no support. There’s no nipple coverage. It just holds the shirt in place. So you still gotta wear a bra.

These have a sewn in bra. Like pads — not removable pads either, they’re fully sewn in there. Do you know what that MEANS? It means I can wear the coolest-yet-still-coverage shirt with not bra. I can answer the door. I can go to the mailbox. I can have people in my house — in my camisole. No nipples showing. Tattoo on full display. Adjustable straps. I’m just comfortable. I LIVE IN THESE. Yall washing clothes when you run out of underwear, these are my washing cue.

Duluth. I fucking love Duluth. The clothes are just good quality shit made to fit a normal sized person who actually moves around. Nothing is stylish — it’s all functional core pieces. And that shit’s gonna LAST. Everything has a one year guarantee. Bring it back for any reason and they’ll replace or refund. Who else does that with clothes? Who else it gonna take back you 9 month old tshirt? I tell you who, Duluth.

I even got my husband on this brand. I bought him some of the bucknaked underwear and their classic 5-pocket pants. He liked the pants so much he got me to get them in another color. MY HUSBAND. So I went and got him some jeans on Wednesday. I had to return some adorable shorts I bought online that were too small for my thighs (sad times). So I was like, I’ll return these and get husband some good jeans. Cool. So I didn’t even bother looking, I just asked the guy whats the closest jeans you have to these pants. And that’s what I bought. Home free right? No. It’s Duluth.

So I’m walking out and I see this little dress thing on clearance. It had caught my eye the other day but was still too expensive, even on clearance. But now clearance was an additional 20% off in store. So I glance at the again. Built in bra — nice nice. Oh wait, holy FUCK ME, are those shorts?

So I grab some to try on. I never would wear something like this — but my friend, this dress is everything. All you need is panties. Very supportive bra built in. Shorts with pockets, check. Extra pockets, check. Open back shows my tattoo off, check.

Well, fuck. I’m wearing this to the Trash Pandas next week. I think it’s made for hiking and shit but you could do anything in this. It’s basically a leotard/bodysuit that looks like a casual dress. And I thought it would be fun because I don’t own anything even close to this. I’m gonna pick husband up from the airport in it!

Oh, and while I’m doing laundry over here… Here’s my top favorite Tshirts at the moment.

We got a pop culture reference, a cat (with a Vneck – love a Vneck), and three shirts referencing the word fuck. One with a muppet. I love Chef.

So yeah… “Cursing Cats and Curiosities” — NAILED THE NAME.

Oh and I called my psychiatrist and was like “yeah no, I’m no longer a functioning crazy person.” I’m requiring a nap EVERY DAMN DAY. Panic attacks every day. Perimenopause is like MY DEATH SPIRAL.

So he gave me MORE valium. I swear to god, my only super power is my inability to sleep. Once I told a pharmacist friend all the shit I take and she was like “I’d be passed out.” No, that’s the level of anxiety we are medically suppressing here. One day we’re all gonna get gassed and kidnapped and I’m gonna wake up and save us all cause aint nobody taking my ass down. Kidnapper farts and I’m awake. Oh you thought I was asleep? ME? HA! I heard everything you said. Now which reality is this — is this the one where I still have one class to take to finish my degree before everyone finds out I’m a sham (because they let me fake graduate with everyone, as long as I finish that one class)? Or the one where we are perpetually packing up to go home from the Florida trip because my sister brought an insane amount of shit that needs to be jammed in the car and she’s drunk off her ass pissing herself in the closet so I have to do it all? WHERE IS MY CAT, MOTHERFUCKER?

I’m gonna categorize this under “Health > Ageing – Not Gracefully.” I have a valium to go take.

DID MY HUSBAND FORGET TO CALL ME AGAIN?

Hiiiii

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on Hiiiii

I know, I should post. But like, I’m still spiraling out of control with my perimenopause over here. My anxiety is off the charts. So much so that I had a stressful work meeting this morning and had an anxiety attack and took the afternoon off. Work is shitty right now and I’m not in the mind space to handle this clusterfuck. So I laid down around 1:00 and slept till 5:00. DAY GONE. Awesome. But I did need the rest.

So I was going to post about the bedjet that I bought. It’s fucking awesome. But you know what? I’m not cool. And I want to post a really good review of it to help people like me that were trying to get some actual details on that shit. So I need to get some pictures. Also, they’re sending me some more (free) risers because my mattress is taller and I’m using the cloudsheet. So that’s coming.

When, I was trying to research it, I ended up in the Reddit subreddit r/menopause. I read a few threads about it but still had questions. So I asked my questions. And while I was posting, I mentioned the Estroven my doctor recommended and asked if anyone had any experience with that. Well, that was a mistake.

Crazy people can’t make support groups with just other crazy people. That’s how cults happen.

Apparently, r/menopause is a bunch of hormone replacement therapy (HRT) evangelists and anyone who doesn’t immediately give you HRT is a shitty doctor who doesn’t know shit about the “current research.” Well, I mean, I’m 41 — I just got diagnosed, I don’t wanna jump straight into HRT. Maybe I’ll regret that later. Probably. But my doctor said to try a few over the counter things first. And I’m cool with that. I don’t agree with their opinion that you should use a telehealth doc that you can lie to to get it prescribed. Also, the threads about the hell of menopause and all the horrible effects are terrifying. Itchy ears? WTF? that’s a thing!? Like what are we talking, a contestant itch? Outside the ear? Inside? Does scratching help? How common is that?

So basically, it’s just a toxic cesspit and I had to leave that subreddit.

It reminded me of when I joined all the misophonia support groups. I found the constant focus on it and people bitching about it made it much worse.

I still would like info though. So I try googling about it, but there’s just a million differing opinions. And people selling supplements. And doctors have different opinions. It’s a clusterfuck. And I don’t see the point of trying to join anymore groups. The people seeking out these groups are the people like me — we’re spiraling out of control crazy people. And so then it’s a echo chamber of bat shit crazy woman demanding fake hormones and divorces.

I mean think about it. If you, say… worship Trump and feel like you’re being shunned by all your friends who say you’re crazy. You go online looking for solace and similar minded folks. All the sudden your in an insane echo chamber of Q-anon people and you won’t speak to your family cause you’re in some weird crazy Trumper cult now.

Crazy people can’t make support groups with just other crazy people. I’ll say it again for the people in the back. Crazy people can’t make support groups with just other crazy people. That’s how cults happen.

BTW, that’s why I loved my CODA group which I now avoid cause of that crazy guy. Is it a bunch of crazy people getting on zoom every Monday? YES. But we’re led and guided by a retired psychiatrist who points out our crazy.

To be fair, Doctors do fuck up — like a lot.

Though I don’t think a doctor would help these menopause groups because they don’t trust the doctors. Old (read MOST) studies say no HRT because increased bloodclots, heart disease, and cancer risks in some of us. Some studies say that’s not true. Some doctors say the better sleep and restfulness outweighs the risks to your heart because it’s helping you be more healthy in general. You know medicine, it’s always changing on what it says is healthy and what isn’t. Remember the fucking food pyramid? It was a foundation of carbohydrates. Literally. Breakfast cereal was in the FOUNDATION.

Also, I’m the first person to say don’t trust doctors. They tried to murder me when my gallbladder was going bad. The only reason I didn’t die was my underhanded squirrliness. I had a surgeon because of the gastric bypass surgery. So I made an appointment to see him. Sure it took a month or two, but that was gonna pass anyway. In the mean time I went to the ER three times and a specialist who said having my gallbladder removed was stupid. And another doctor that did an ultrasound and said all I had was asymptomatic gallstones. Meanwhile, I’m curled in a ball on the floor in the bathroom at work in pain (gallstone attacks — now we know). In FACT, that exact scenario was one of the ER visits. Work sent me to the ER.

Then I finally see my surgeon and he nearly kills me by poking under my ribs and is like holy fuck — we gotta do a liver biopsy on you ASAP. I agreed to LET HIM do that if he agreed to take my gallbladder out while I was under. Deal — that was Friday, Monday morning I had surgery. And what did they find while in surgery? Oh look, shes got internal gangrene. This gallbladder is literally dead and rotting. I bet if we pop that out she’ll feel better. THANKS GENIUSES. And do you know how risky having surgery with internal gangrene is? For real, I know someone that died from it (exploratory surgery). Because if the organ had ruptured during the surgery — well, now gangrene is all up in your abdominal cavity and you probably won’t be waking up. So even though I got what I want, fucker still almost killed me.

So I get it, don’t trust the doctors to know whats best. Get lots of opinions. But I also can’t listen these insane people.

Don’t come at me.

Also, don’t be insulted — not everyone in menopause and perimenopause will be insane. I understand. Please understand that I’m talking about people like MYSELF. I’m already on two antidepressants and an antianxiety. So anything that causes severe anxiety IS NOT GONNA BE OK.

My mom is dead, my sisters are bitches and all my friends are younger than me. So I HAVE NO ONE. And no one ever told me you’d go through some crazy 10-year reverse puberty BEFORE menopause. I’ve heard of menopause. I didn’t know it was this bad and I’ve never even heard of perimenopause! Fucking middle finger for living past child bearing age.

So that’s my rant. Bedet is fucking awesome though. Gonna review that IN DEPTH for my fellow hot sleepers.

Life: Purpose for the shit show?

Also, it occurs to me that that gastric bypass surgery has always been a big shame for me. Cause you know, I gained it all back. Then lost it with keto — gained like half of it back. So I’m still fat, basically. So it’s SO EMBARRASSING to say I had gastric bypass surgery. BUT BUT BUT

I just realized. Had I not had that, I wouldn’t have had contact and ability to get an appointment directly with surgeon. And had I not took it upon MYSELF (not a referral) to ask that surgeon to cut me open, I would have died whenever the gallbladder ruptured. He said possible two weeks.

So… maybe God had a reason there?

Interesting.

No, probably just still shit show.

Still, fuck hormones. Also, maybe if I didn’t have the surgery, the gallbladder wouldn’t have had issues. So who knows. Life is a shit show.

I’M SO OLD

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on I’M SO OLD

Sorry for radio silence. I’ve been real fucking depressed and anxious as hell. I believe that I mentioned my night time panic attacks previously? Well, here’s the jist: I’ve been waking up to panic attacks. Most I’ve been really proud of myself for getting under control. Counted breathing and smashing my face in the pillow to simulate a paper bag. Not that it’s as simple as that cause I start counting and I’m just counting cause I’m panicking and just speed running 1 2 3 4 5 6 1 2 3 4 5 6 likes it will summon a peacefulness fairy until I get it going right.

The other night I had a really terrible one. I couldn’t stay in bed. I was prancing around. No, I was not walking, it was more of a prance cause I was in PAIN. I bent myself over the bedroom couch (it’s MY nook) trying so hard to stretch my chest muscles open (can you get a charlie horse of the chest?). Then I was drenched in sweat and totally going to throw up. So I ran to the bathroom and hit the floor by the toilet.

The bathroom tiles were so refreshing and cool and I sat their by the toilet cooling off forever until the vomit feeling passed enough for me to leave.

Then I’ve been getting night sweats. Every. Single. Night. (The panic attacks are not nightly… As of now). Like husband is over there under the comforter burritoed in. Normally, I sleep with my beloved fuzzy blanket because it’s so light and airy. If I get too cool, I’ll pull the top sheet over it. But it doesn’t absorb sweat. So I switched to just the top sheet as needed. Keep in mind, I have a vornado fan on full blast, not 5 feet away, pointed at my chest/back. I’ve done the fan thing since Jack was a kitten. I started it to drown out the sound of him licking his ass while I tried to sleep. Kept it ever since. Though I have replaced it ONE TIME. I even travel with it sometimes when we don’t fly.

So now, every single night, I wake up drenched in sweat. If y’all have ever seen me workout or work in the yard, you know I sweat like a fountain. Once at CrossFit, one of the guys asked If I finally just dumped my nalogene over my head. I had not. So that’s how much sweat. Soaked through the sheets and you could ring out my pj pants. But there’s a fan blowing right on me and I’m soaked, so now I’m fucking FREEZING like I just got out of the pool on a cool cloudy day with high winds.

So I gotta take my pants off, but I can’t do anything about the sheet. One night I tried sleeping on a blanket so I could strip it off and then have a dry spot. I toss and turn too much so it got wadded up and I just had a wet blanket AND sheets.

So our yearly physical was coming up. I was positive I was hyperthyroid. My thyroid levels have NEVER been correct at my yearly. Anxiety, running hot? Hyperthyroid. gotta be. We fix it.

We go to the physical and I’m up first (husband and I do our blood draws and physicals together. We get twice as much time with the doctor!). It’s not my thyroid. My thyroid is perfect. I’m devastated. My doctor was like, yeah I was hoping too. How old are you? 41.

Perimenopause.

AHHHHHHHHH. WHYYYYYYYYYY?

You know the eye doctor said next time I’d probably have to get bifocals. And I’ve been balding for like 15 years and saw the dermatologist last month and he said this is as good as we can do. There’s not a higher dose to put me on. I just stay in this forever and be glad I’m not losing more hair.

Also, coincidentally, the other day I was reminiscing through old photos. Momma, Jack… I miss them. I was at 2019. Before COVID. Before mom died. Before the brain injury and 3 year trial. Before the huge weight gain of absolute despair at moms death. I looked good. I looked insanely younger. That was less than 5 years ago but I’ve aged terribly since then. I mean,sure, we’ve added boobs and a fucking awesome tattoo, but my god. Look at my face. Look at my eyes. I’m so old. And I read that you age faster after menopause. I’m fucked!

So that put me in a funk. I was feeling just so unattractive and fucked up. And now I’m approaching menopause!?

Jesus.

So I haven’t taken it well. I’m not ok with it. I’m hot. I’m not getting enough sleep and now there’s no magical pill to fix how fucking anxious I am! Like WHAT NOW, GOD? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

THIS IS SOME FUCKING BULLSHIT.

THAT’S BULLSHIT, RONNY!

So. That’s my headspace. I fell so ugly and old and anxious as fuck. Like did you know my job sucks? Did you know my husband’s job is even worse and he’s basically clinically depressed at this point and I can’t do shit about it? Did you know his job just announced there will three rounds of layoffs?

Did you know that people on Reddit are wrong and assholes and will down vote you to hell? And that the city what’s happening page (no rules) HAS RULES. Cause I was just defending someone else who posted a bad review complete with pictures. Then the manager made a new thread to attack her and call her a liar. Then we all started going woah woah woah, a lot of people had similar experiences and posted photos in her review too. And she started antagonizing the original girl who left the review and said she faked the picture and then blocked her so she couldn’t defend herself. So that girl started a thread to ask if she was blocked or the thread was gone. So then we all hopped on the new thread joking about the insanity of it. We were having a great time and being jovial. Talking about favorite places to eat, loving crazy people drama, etc. and there were like 3 people I was conversing with and having a hoot. Then they deleted our fun thread and banned the original reviewer from the group. ON THE NO RULES PAGE. All she did was post a review and then defend herself! Bitch managers personal attack of her is still up.

AND BOEING IS ASSASSINATING WHISTLEBLOWERS!

And then I had an anxiety attack and went to bed for more night sweats.

So that’s how it’s going.

The doctor recommended some supplements I forget the name of. Probably gonna buy a $600 bed jet. But I need to buy a new salt cell and pay for the pool opening and I wanted a fancy aidirandack chair for the deck.

IM NOT DOING OK.