I used to live recklessly. I drank, smoked pot, was very promiscuous, drank more, smoked more pot, and so on. There were times I would wake up the next day and not remember how I got home until I looked out the door and saw my car parked outside and realized I drove home drunk and/or stoned again. If I went out, I had only one purpose, and that was to get wasted. 

 “No.” With that one word, my world falls apart. I start crying, uncontrollable sobs, barely able to catch my breath kind of crying. What the hell is happening to me? I went from feeling nothing to feeling complete miserable in one second. I want to go back to feeling nothing. The misery is too hard to bear. Then I hear snippets of the doctor’s and my husband’s conversation.  Come on now that’s funny, or cringe worthy. Probably both, and both are true at least for me

Did you hear the one about the whore who became a pastor? Come on now that’s funny, or cringe worthy. Probably both, and both are true at least for me

I can’t look at the rolls of fat that have replaced my stomach, the stretch marks that have replaced smooth skin, varicose veins that look like a road map on my legs, and a chest that now sags after breastfeeding.

My biggest issue is what I call the comparison disease. I compare myself to everyone about everything, from money to looks. And now, it seems, I’m passing this disease along to my daughter.

No one, and I mean no one, prepared me for perimenopause. We hear plenty about puberty, childbirth, and menopause—but no one warns you about the hormonal roller coaster that hits in between.