Me vs. Menopause: Volume I

Hey, it’s me again. And again.  And again.

The good news is I’m blazing my way back, although your mileage may vary on how good that is.  Like any egotistical writer, I’ll assume you’ve been whispering in corners brows furrowed, worrying and wondering what happened to my blatherings, snark, and deathless prose possibly about Richard Armitage.  Don’t worry, I’ve stashed months and months of thoughts on all three.

The bad news my depression went all wibbly wobbly.  No, Winston the black dog of gloom didn’t return.  Instead my hormones have been thrown into chaos by that horrid phase of womanhood, MENOPAUSE.  I could rant for days on the subject, but let’s just say that the turmoil negated the efficacy of the anti-depressives and stopped me in my tracks.  Not only did the blogging stop, everything else did as well.  Now that things seem to be settling and the meds work agreeing to agree, another window of opportunity presents itself to start pushing the proverbial ball back uphill.

The crazy is that today seems like a new year to me when I rise yet again, dust myself off and make resolutions: start blogging again,  fire up Scrivener and write again, and think of life in terms of a story to tell.  Surprisingly, I miss writing – not that I’m a great storyteller – but the mechanics of thinking about things and translating the story from my mind to the medium.  I suspect the habit of regularly blogging ignited something internally.  Dr. G. also believes that blogging is beneficial to psychological processing.  So you see, it’s what the doctor orders.

I’m not sure whether to blog every day, but I’ll  share thoughts about the latest doings of Mr. A. or maybe let The Man tell you.  Any ideas are welcome.