My brain thinks I’m half the age I am; able to run, lift heavy stuff, do hand stands.
Truth is I don’t even need to run to fall over, the last time I lifted anything heavy I lost balance and ended up on my rear end with the item on top of me, and I wouldn’t even try to do hand stands as I’m sure to break something. The doctor tells me I have to slow down as I’m not as young as I used to be. Tell that to my brain.
Then this brain that tells me I’m half the age I really am says it is full and doesn’t want to remember new things, like what I was doing before I was interrupted, peoples’ names, and where the hell I put something. So my brain pisses me off.
This ageing thing pisses me off. Arthritis – I get down on the floor to pick something up, and can’t get up again as the knees aren’t what they used to be. Sleep – I’d get my seven or eight hours if I didn’t have to get up to pee so often.
The body also pisses me off. I no longer have to pluck my eyebrows as they seem to have gone south to my chin. Everything has gone south. Where I once had top of arms I now have some pouches. Where I once had perfect sight, now I reach for the glasses before even getting out of bed (unless it is the middle of the night as it makes no difference since my night vision is now so poor). My hearing is getting worse, but I think that is a blessing. I’m getting shorter (and plumper) – I used to be proud to be tall and thin. There are bumps and dimples where I’d never ever envisaged having them. The neck – photos show up the creases and crinkles. The hair has some grey around the sides so I dye it but can’t remember the original colour – was it brown or auburn? A hairdresser once said to me that grey around the sides for a man looks distinguished, but on me it looks ridiculous. I envy those who were born blonde as the grey doesn’t show as mu ch.
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I can no longer sit for as long as I used to. An hour train trip and I’m so stiff I have to start getting off the stop before, or miss my station. People stand for me on crowded buses. I tell them no, I don’t need a seat (do they think I’m old or something). The time I would have liked to have a seat was when I was 8 1/2 months pregnant all those years ago, and no-one offered me one then. Our buses have a lowering step for the aged, people with prams and people with disabilities. The drivers always lower it when I get off – I don’t need it – I’m perfectly capable of stepping down.
I’ve never been called ‘dear’ by shop attendants – that would really piss me off. I read in the paper that an elderly woman died in a house fire. I look to see how old she was and find she was younger than me. Do they have to say elderly? Can’t they just say ‘a woman’? You never read “a middle aged woman, or a young woman” so why say elderly. They seem to want to justify the fire killing the person because she was ‘elderly’ and therefore was more careless or slow.
There is so much that pisses me off about getting older. Having said that, I am blessed with good health (apart from the arthritis). I will continue just as I am thank you, with my brain telling me I can do it and my body trying to follow suit.
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