Sometime in the distant past, I underwent that purgatory known as puberty. You, yourself, may have experienced that wonderous period of acne, voice changing, hair growth and hormonal mood swings.
Fun times, right?
Sure-If a root canal without novacaine is your idea of a good time.
Around the end of my teens, my body and I reached a detente of sorts. Once a month of so, I would binge on chocolate-covered salt, wear looser pants and lock myself away from my loved ones to avoid saying things like, “Your teacher was wrong; there are such things as stupid questions.” and “Be glad that our family is long-lived, because time will heal the pain I’m about to inflict.”
Not exactly words that promote strong, healthy relationships–although in social Darwinism…
But I digress.
For several decades, I had a system that worked. Then some #$%##@! changed the rules. My family is blessed with early on-set menopause.
I do not feel blessed, I feel fricking cursed, betrayed and outright lied to. Why exactly do I, as a woman, get to go through puberty twice? Who made up these darn rules and can I sue them for cruel and unusual punishment, or, at least, aim a Tommy gun at them?
And as my default emotion is homicidial rage, this hormonal tinkering is not a good thing. EVER!
Fortunately, I am human, see me adapt.
Unfortunately, I’m not quite certain who I’ll be at the end of my hormonal oddessy.
But I won’t be the same as I am now.
I am already waging a campaign of psychological warfare that would made the CIA proud. But the dark moments stil surface. Sometimes I give into them. Intelligent Design is a result of one such episode.
And let me just say the cover is just the beginning.
Most of the time, I fight the anger. One way or the other, I’ll emerge from this hormonal forge stronger, better, and lots of fodder for more stories.