Menopause pills do work
The menopause tablets that I get from the pharmacy really do seem to help. A week and a half not taking them had left the hot flushes slowly getting worse and my sleep being consequently ruined. Poor sleep means that I’m less able to focus and I have less resilience for the ups and downs of life.
Every night I am disturbed by these flushes – and they are getting worse.
Hopefully I won’t have to wait too long.
In the meantime, I’ve bought myself another box of these pills. They’re non-hormonal, being just a load of vitamins and supplements that have been found to help reduce the effects of menopause.
The visit
I saw my husband as he walked past the kitchen window, so I nipped to the side door and let him in.
He was a little surprised when I asked him to remove his shoes! I shouldn’t need to explain myself, but I did: we have a nine-hundred-pound deposit that we’d like to get back when I move out. Besides, there are carpets in the flat, which are lovely to walk on barefoot; we have cold, hard laminate flooring at the house … and a dog who sheds everywhere.
He was visible nervous about being here. I showed him around the flat a little (he’d seen it already). I think he was a little shocked by the sofa. I think my feminine side is exerting itself after so much repression – my presentation is usually boyish/neutral, which reflects my semi-masculine identity . Perhaps I really am more gender-neutral than I thought.
I wonder what other people think of the sofa? It’s a couple of pink throws over an ugly grey thing
Tea was simple, since I only have one sauce pan, a shallow frying pan (for crepes), a wok, and there is the oven. The potatoes I prepared yesterday, the fishcakes were for the oven. And some shop bought coleslaw. He enjoyed it.
It seems that we cannot avoid talking. Things slowly got more stressful as he raised a few issues, such as the need to start making decisions – we cannot afford to keep the flat forever. I said that perhaps I should give notice at end of September with an aim to move back into the house by the end of October, depending on what we decide about our marriage.
It got a little more intense when he was sharing his fears around becoming homeless; “you’ll be alright because you have a job, it could take years for me to get a flat,” he said “because I don’t have a job, it’s much harder to rent and I’ll need to go on the council register. I wouldn’t survive on the streets.” I felt a twist in my stomach when he said all that. I don’t know what that feeling means, only that it makes me feel uncomfortable.
He started saying that he needed to be better at enforcing his boundaries, which I think is fair enough. I said that “I would like boundaries to be clearly defined because I’m not good with ambiguity”. He then said “James, I’m talking about my boundaries not yours” in his telling-me-off voice. I said “so was I”.
One of his boundaries is to do with keeping secrets. Secrets are toxic to him. And I have kept a lot of secrets – for many years I kept them from myself, but when I first started getting an overwhelming urge to be castrated, I spoke to other guys and eunuchs a long time before I spoke to him. I know why that was and I don’t think I could have done anything differently. However, I do recognise how that felt for him – and that’s the root of his sense of betrayal.
I am much less filtered in what I think and say than I used to be and now it feels like not saying everything at once is my problem rather than undersharing with him. Because of his reactions (and it really seems that the way I put things could be better presented) I feel particularly anxious talking to him about anything – it gets complicated and overwhelming far too quickly.
It is clear that I need to spend some real time talking about kinks with my husband. He is entitled to know what I’m thinking and feeling. They are a huge part of me that I disavowed and must somehow integrate if I’m too be authentic and whole.
He said say that he felt as though he’d “drawn the short straw” regarding us remaining monogamous while we are living apart or until such time as we are able to discuss what an open relationship would mean for us. Without hormones, even though I can get hard and orgasm, I have zero libido and I never get horny. He very much had a libido and does get very horny.
All the evening I felt my anxiety rising; was he going to spoil this as a place of peace and sanctuary? If it got to a certain point, would I be able to say “stop” or “I need a break” before it got too much?
He said that people like me call themselves “sissies”. I’m not sure what I feel about that. I don’t think I like it as that was another term used to bully me when I was at school. Yet I chat to a number of guys who seem to quite happily identify themselves as sissies and I have no problem with them. This needs thought.
He did say one thing in particular that stuck with me: “if I’d wanted to be with a woman, I’d have stayed with my wife”. That did not feel good to hear, but I am not certain why. I am not a woman and neither have I want wish to be one. I think I need to understand more what he meant by this, was it said in jest, or is there something deeper in it?
Just after eight, I put a film on: “Home Invasion”. It was ok, not my kind of thing, but it was worth watching as I snuggled up to him on the sofa. t was a good evening!
On balance, it was a good evening!
Eunuchorn 
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