I was mindlessly scrolling Instagram and a clip came up from That 70s Show with my girl Kitty Forman freaking out. It was actually a series of clips and the title was “Meno-Rage.” I laughed at Kitty’s outbursts, but only because I knew how real they were.
I’m currently on hormones and seem to have most of my menopause symptoms in check. A year ago, that was not the case. The rage was strong in this one! I’m here to tell you.
At the peak of my meno-rage, I tried to beat my husband to death with a pack of dried spaghetti. I seriously wanted to hurt him. I don’t remember what set me off, but spaghetti was what I had in my hand and I proceeded to beat the fuck out of him with it. Y’all, I am not a violent person, but I was crazed. Thank goodness he is not a violent person either. He handled it about as well as someone could who was getting the shit beat out of them with a pack of spaghetti.
The spaghetti episode was only one of many of my uncontrollable outbursts. Please believe me when I say uncontrollable, I mean it. It was like I was levitating outside my body just watching myself be bat shit crazy. I wanted to stop it, but couldn’t. It was terrible.
I’ve heard tales of meno-rage my whole life. I remember a college friend telling me about her mom chasing her dad with a cast iron skillet. (That should make my husband feel better about the spaghetti.) While I heard the stories, I don’t know that I gave them much credence. I do now.
A dear friend of mine was recently telling me about a visit she had with her college roommate. After a few glasses of wine, the roommate confessed to my friend that she hated her husband. She went on to state her case against said husband to include how he breaths. My friend pulled up the definition of menopausal rage and showed it to the roommate. “Oh,” she said. “This is totally me.” She is now looking into hormones and hopefully, her marriage is safe.
I feel for women who can’t take hormones. It must be terrible. I was a damn monster for a while. A total lunatic. I’m grateful for my husband’s patience and understanding. He says he knew that wasn’t me, but it was scary. I can’t imagine. If he acted that way I would have him put down.
I’m glad we can laugh about it now. I’m fairly stable, but menopause is a hard, scary time for everyone involved. If men had to do it there would be better drugs.
So, until those better drugs exist, if you have a woman in your life “of a certain age,” tread lightly. She is doing her best. You may also want to keep the spaghetti locked up.
Angela Traver
What is this blog about? Well, it's a general blog, but it is also a very specific blog. If you get that reference, you get a gold star! I have been a public relations professional and writer of press releases for more than 20 years—primarily in the booze biz. I decided to do some writing for fun and embrace the humor that gets me through most days. Hopefully it will make you chuckle—or at least smile. I’m a certified crazy magnet, and more than a little nutty myself, so buckle up. Also, I have two vices—profanity and red wine/whiskey. You’ve been warned. It should also be noted, that I’m a HUGE Bob & Sheri fan. I’ve been a listener for more than 20 years. This opportunity is a dream come true and it may have made me cry. That being said, I cry at everything. If you are into booze, dogs, food and/or knitting, hit me up on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter (although I’m terrible at Twitter and it scares me) @kyspiritsgal. You can also find all my previous blog posts at www.kyspiritsgal.com.
