What Is Perimenopause And Why Am I Crying?

Dear Hotflash Heather,

Don't get me started. The whole "Perimenopause" thing really threw me for a loop, especially since I had never heard of it before. It felt like the medical industry was screwing with me, deliberately separating one of the most dreadful experiences of my life into a pre-game mini-series that lasted three fucking years. But I digress, and am NOT sorry for my harsh language. (You'll see.)

My train-wreck began with night sweats and uncontrollable tears before my fiftieth birthday. Thanks, Mother Nature; you're a real pal. I couldn't even get through old reruns of that "Holiday Surprise" Publix commercial: you know, the one where the guy working at the hospital is all bummed out because he can't get home in time for Thanksgiving, but when he goes home from work that night, he finds his entire family cooking dinner in his apartment? I'll drop it below in case you need a good cry.

It wasn't until a year or so later — after my body stopped wilting and I gained a few (fifteen) pounds — that my doctor told me about Perimenopause. I remember sitting on a paper seat, watching her lips move but only hearing the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher.

Everything you ever need to know is on Google, Heather, so do your homework if you must, but know that it won't matter because Perimenopause is bullshit, and nothing about it makes any sense. The best example I've ever found to capture what it is honestly feels like for middle-aged women on the verge of a nervous breakdown is this sketch comedy bit from the Baroness von Sketch Show. Grab a tissue because you are about to cry-laugh your way to the other side.

The good news is that menopause is no big deal. The challenge is getting there without ending up in the backseat of a police car for losing it on some moron who stole your parking space. All and all, it took about three years, give or take, for me to reach the end of my dismal rainbow, but I made it there in one piece — thinned hair, fattened thighs, and a lot more wrinkles — and so will you, as long as don't let that bloated ego ruin your moment. Know what else? Unless you have a daughter, you will never have to pay for "ALWAYS" again. Imagine what you can do with all that money. But just in case, you may want to read THIS. 

Pro tip: surround yourself around people who make you laugh. If you're not easily offended, you might want to start HERE. ​???