June 28, 2001
I woke up in a tent this morning. Did what I always do when I camp; build a fire, make a cup of coffee, and read.
Peace finally. Time to think.
I am 52. I’m a menopausal woman. I guess I got through it okay, physically. Hot flashes. Once on a 10 degree day, I drove to school with the air conditioner on. And then when my second graders went to gym I opened all the windows in my classroom. I’m now eating old peoples’s bran cereal every morning to keep me regular. I started getting a troll doll belly about a year ago. I remember the original troll dolls from my childhood. They had jewels in their belly buttons. Now in the morning when I get out of the shower, I look at my body and wonder what would suit me better, a subtle turquoise stone or a sparkly red ruby.
Midlife crisis. Is this trip a way to prove that I am still young or is it a urgent flight against the passing of time? I am having a hard time with the psychological part of the menopause. I’m no longer “cute”and I don’t get the looks I used to. My confidence is low. Am I a crone now?
I remember Day 4 sailing with M.H. and writing about the power of words. Old. Crone. Menopause. Are these wrinkled, dried up, slow moving, stifling words part of my new reality, my new way of life? Or is it just a meno-PAUSE before something else? I have 64 more days to figure it out.