Those insecurity blues.....

I am afraid that I have turned into a sniveling desperate female-the kind that I abhor. No one tells you about the insecurity that you feel as a pre-menopausal woman. It creeps up on you when you least expect it like those awful weeds that invade your yard. Of course as a writer, I live with a certain amount of insecurity and rejection all the time. Rejections with no explanations. Editors who only half listen to you when you talk to them. Editors who pay you less than they told you that they’d pay. Believe me, my ego gets a regular workout on the insecurity machines at this gym. But with menopause, the insecurity is more invasive. That little voice in my head is on overdrive. You’re too fat. You’re stupid. You’re everything that is bad about this universe! Of course, ten milligrams of Prozac sometimes keeps it at bay, but on the touch and go days, that ten doesn’t make it. So I exercise more. I hide out a little. I avoid the sweets (well, sometimes!). I read a good book that helps me escape. I try to be good by reminding myself that it is just one day out of many. That I am not as bad as what my menopausal alter ego says that I am. Then I go on, trying to ignore those voices that sound so much like someone else’s mother.