How a city girl, gone country grieves (and raises cows): Meno-Me

 How a city girl, gone country grieves 

(and raises cows)

I met Kimberly through farming. She, like me, has been dropped into this life and is learning to love it just like me. She is a Christian, however, our pasts are nothing alike. I've asked her to share her story on my Blog over the next weeks or months or however long it takes. It is filled with much grief and loss but will hopefully make you laugh and smile and grow and grieve along with her.

I have a frenemy, a second personality if you will. She started emerging about four years ago (coincidentally, shortly after the beef farm fell in my yard.) I don't like her most days. Some days I'm on her side. Some days, when I wake up and she's there, I just want to curl up and pray she goes away.

She's my Meno-Me.

If you're not yet in the meno-club, some of this won't make any sense. If you have survived the Meno-club and you're not in prison, I applaud you!!! If you're in the midst of all the fun we're having in Meno-club, then, well, you'll get it. Chill the wine, toss the coffee, and let's get miserable.

Before I go further, I do realize that controlling my diet plan, exercising, and natural remedies do help with many of the symptoms and most of the time I'm a good girl and obey.

But Meno-Me? She doesn't care.

In fact, she can be so mean and hateful and hurtful at times I'm cringing the whole time. Some of the ugliness is triggered by the dumbest things. She still doesn't care.

She's feisty and most times just plain miserable. For no reason at all. She's always too hot, while I am freezing, and oftentimes she's eating junk food well after dinner. Oh yeah, she knows I'm not fond of her. And she doesn't care.

Some days I wake up and feel all me. Encouraging, loving, serving. Typically that means she's on her "vacation", and I can go whole weeks without her around. But like her cousin, the Aunt that always visits at the most inopportune times, she'll show up out of nowhere and take over. It's like a volcanic eruption, with no warning signs. And she doesn't care.

I'm a firm believer God put me in the meat farm business at this time in my life so I wouldn't end up in prison. Meno-me gets some relief I think from the processing of meat products; killing something (with a good purpose) and no jail time involved. And still, she doesn't care.

I'm also a firm believer God gave me boys later in life on purpose. My daughters were rather challenging during their teen years. There's no doubt in my mind Meno-me would land me in jail if my girls were living with me during this time. And STILL she doesn't care.

I take heart. It's been a full year since that nagging Aunt hasn't visited, so for that there is some reprieve. I was able to take off some weight during the beginning stages of the Meno-club, which really helped with my sleep and general feeling of well-being. While Meno-Me still intrudes on my eating choices more frequently here of late, I just roll with it a few days until she goes on "vacation" then I get my balance back. My poor scale needs a new battery about every month.

The hot flashes, water retention, sleeplessness and general life pains are moderate and with the (finally) warming temps a lot of that is easing since I can be outside without 10 layers of clothes (which Meno-me will start shedding at any given moment). There are a few more years (YEARS!?!?!?!) left of the Meno-club, so I've been advised, and I like to think I have a handle on the basics. My husband is still coming home every day (for now). My boys have emo-sensors and know when the powder-keg is lit and have learned DO NOT ENGAGE. My poor mother, who lives with us, is thankfully too deaf to hear the Meno-Me rantings (God is merciful!) most of the time and my daughters live out of state. Lucky for them.

For you incoming "club" members, it's really not that bad (I'm lying). For you graduates of the "club" I'm not sure how you did it and left survivors. And for those holding the "Premium Membership" card, I'm with ya. Sweat, tears, meanness and all. 

Did I mention the facial hair.....?

Until next week!

Kimberly