Paraphrased…
Her: How are you feeling?
Me: OK, I guess. I don’t know. I just feel like there’s nothing there. No emotion. I’m just… here. You know? I don’t know if I like this. I don’t feel like me.
Her: But, Heather. Think about this. You were on a rampage for so long. Maybe this is what normal is supposed to feel like? The other you? That wasn’t healthy.
Me: Yeah, you’re probably right.
Her: Give it time, Der.
There are moments when your friends put everything into perspective. I don’t think I’ve probably ever felt truly even-keeled. I think most of my life has been just me on a tear and now that I’m balancing out, calming down, what feels out-of-sorts for me is actually what life is SUPPOSED to feel like.
It’s weird. Pre-Zoloft/Klonopin me was just angry all the time. As well as sad. And now that I’ve stepped back and can see that me from outside… wow. Just, wow. What a hot-ass mess. But, while I’m examining this, I’ve also been mourning. For some strange reason, I’ve been saddened because that old me is going away. And even though that me is batshit crazy, I kind of miss her. Don’t get me wrong. The sarcasm is still there. The opinions are still there. The emotions are still there. They’re just not bubbling on the surface, waiting to splatter all over the place like hot bacon grease. They’re all functioning in proper order, waiting for the proper moment, quietly biding their time.
Does any of that make sense?
I’ve been a mad, daft cow for quite some time. While watching an old Boston Legal tonight where Denny Crane decides he doesn’t have Alzheimer’s but instead suffers from Mad Cow, I made an off-handed comment about how the dog probably calls me that in her head. “Oh, look. There goes that Mad Cow again.” And then, I thought, maybe that’s how a lot of people have seen me over the last decade or so. I really have been quite mad. Every time I talk to my friends about my mother or post some nonsense on Facebook or when the neighbor saw me lose my shit over the garden hose this summer (quelle horreur) that’s been sad, angry-at-the-world me.
Mad cow.
I’m sorry, everybody. I really, truly had no idea, until just now, how bad I’ve been.
Middle-Aged Motherhood 
Hugs sweetie! Big, tight, I love you Hugs!
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You are my cow. Mad or not.
I went through all of that at the age of 43. (Coincidentally, that was the year of my menopause-note:it did not START. It happened and was done) All of those hormones went into my ‘mad cow’. I was angry. I didn’t know why and never really needed a reason. So many things had to happen for me to be ‘normal’ again. Stop worrying about my family and what they thought, got rid of bad influences, got rid of so-called friends. Your things are probably different in lots of ways but still, those “things” are steps. Little ones, that will merge and make a big difference. Find something good in yourself and use it to ‘ground’ yourself. Hang onto it. You will get through this. I know you will. You know where to find me if you need to talk. ❤
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NOTHING to apologize about.
you are loved.
although i am now rather curious as to what the garden hose did. or didn’t do.
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We all have our demons. I think a good mourning is cleansing. Take care of yourself. ❤
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