Tick, Tick, Tick

Cooperstown, NY


Life confounds.

I’ve been given a reprieve. I started estrogen (back in spring of 2017). And many physical symptoms of *whateverthehellthisis* ebbed.

My head cleared a bit. I regained what feels like my full field of view. I don’t see many movement hallucinations in my peripheral vision. I can usually remember what conversation I’m in while I’m in it.

The stuff is all still there, but it doesn’t rule every minute of every day.

But I feel like a ticking time bomb. How long do I have before BOOM!?

Am I the only person in the world to experience this? Is there no doctor who would explore the connection between estrogen and my neurological problems?
Not that my experience represents a majority of women with neurological problems after menopause…but I can’t possibly be the only one.

Can I?

losing my footing

In most ways, and according to doctors, I am too healthy to worry about whether or not I have Parkinson’s. I am too healthy ohysically, that is.

The changes in my brain are what concern me. I can’t get a doctor to pay attention to my cognitive deficits, even though I am gently losing my ability to take care of my business.

I can see how married people lose more of themselves before noticing. Over time, the spouse takes on more and more responsibilities, and things just kinda keep going. Not so great maybe, but the changes are gradual and can go unnoticed for a long time.

What about single people?

How do single people keep living their lives when their brains start behaving strangely? How do they continue to pay their bills…their taxes…how do they remember to bathe and feed themselves?

I am not so single that I’d fade away without anybody noticing. BF would notice. BF takes me to the grocery store and heats up leftovers and reminds me to eat real meals when we are together. And we are together more days than not.

I feel conspicuously damaged lately, but BF seems not to mind my brokenness too terribly. I think my bad depression days scare him (they sure as shit scare me) and I worry about the damage to us. And my ability to measure the things in my life is fucked. Part of me is always scared.

Scared I f what, I can’t say for sure.

Scared of being alone? Possibly. If I end up truly single again, I might never leave the house…I might subsist on spoonsful of peanut butter…I might go weeks without seeing another soul…I might never wash my hair again.

Am I scared of the pain? That feeling of emotional decimation?But that’s silly. Those feelings really don’t last that long. Do they?

I am scared of ending up alone in this strange place. But the thing is, I was alone in the last strange place too. It was more familiar because I’d been there longer, but it was never home.

My internal landscape is shifting beneath my feet. I can’t keep my footing, literally or metaphorically.

Yes. That sounds right. Losing my footing.