I just spent half an hour doing nothing.
Scratch that. I’ve spent about the past week doing nothing.
Three of those days can’t count, though. I had a hormonally-induced I.B.S. flare up that was so bad, I was in discomfort, if not pain, most of the time, needing to skip snacks and even a couple of meals.
Back to today. And yesterday. My digestive system has been almost normal, but I haven’t been working on the novel I started. Actually, I gave up on it. I haven’t written any blog posts (until now). No practicing my guitar or keyboard. I can barely get myself to sit down with B to do our language arts lessons in the morning.
During the past half hour, I “looked inside” two books on Amazon which I had no intention of buying. I scanned someone else’s blog without really reading anything. I stared at a Blogger blog I’d started last year, wondering if I should keep it up. I…well, I’m not sure what else I did.
Except, I wasted my time. Like I did the rest of the day.
Normally, when I don’t do something productive with my time for a good part of day, I feel guilty.
Not today. Not yesterday, either.
Certainly not those days when every bite of food I took felt like it went down my esophagus with a double-edged knife.
But forget the misery of digestive disorders. Understandable, my difficulty with concentration – or motivation to do anything beyond survive the next minute – under those circumstances.
The fact is, during the past two days, I could have done something. I could have worked on a novel. I could have improved my musical skills (though, I did play the keyboard yesterday, yay me 😉 ). I could have tried calling a friend. E-mailed my sister a long overdue “how ya doin’?”
No, you don’t understand. I’ve been having them off and on for the past year or so. But during the past couple of weeks, they’ve been an almost hourly, if not more frequent, occurrence.
They are now being preceded by that “aura” I’ve heard tell about. My hot flash aura? I have a mini-panic attack. I suddenly feel like I’m being pulled into hell.
And this has been happening many times a day for the past few days.
Tell you one good thing that’s come out of it: I can now empathize with people who suffer from anxiety disorders. And maybe this sudden intensity and increase in symptoms means that menopause cometh soon. And maybe I might stop feeling crazy half the time when it does?
The bad thing: I have no idea when I’m going to feel balanced enough to actually commit to a project as massive as a novel.
The long and the short of it: I’m not going to worry about being productive right now. This journey through intensified perimenopause symptoms is a job in and of itself – unpaid though it be.
Pray for me. And perhaps expect more blog posts while I await a calm enough mind to tackle another novel. Because I have to write. I’m a writer.
PS – Do me a favor and don’t comment telling me about the glories of HRT. Increased magnesium supplementation and an M.D.-created progesterone oil have me a lot better off than I was a couple of years ago.