I think my mental issues are acting up. I’m cranky as fuck and feeling doomed and I’m not sure there’s much of a good reason for any of it.
But, can I just say, my body is fucking falling apart.
When I was in high school I took a Gender Issues course (not “Women’s Studies” because, as the teacher said, the patriarchy doesn’t just fuck women over, it fucks men over too and this class examined all of that). The teacher told us (the class was all chicks) that as we got older we’d be deemed less fuckable by men, and thus be functionally invisible, and that this would catch us by surprise and be really offputting and frustrating.
I never really believed that, first off because I was eighteen and thought I was invincible, secondly because as I began to age and be somewhat “invisible” I actually loved it (not feeling sexually appraised everywhere I went, way less street harassment), thirdly because despite point #2 I never actually felt unfuckable. Yeah, random strangers stopped seeing me as a piece of meat, but I still had no shortage of dates when I wanted them. And anyway there are tons of actresses in their 40s who are still considered hot and fuckable. A sort of “seasoned” mature face doesn’t seem to put dudes off any.
And, okay, I’m still getting tail easily enough. So my bodily changes apparently aren’t driving suitors away (although every time I have a mental or physical ailment of any kind lately, The Pedant has suggested working out as a solution, which is starting to piss me off. I think he’s not-so-subtly hinting that he wishes I were back at the weight I was a year or two ago). I will say though that I haven’t had a guy make moon eyes at me and call me beautiful in a long time. I kinda feel like my appearance these days is less “hot” to guys and more “ehhh, good enough.”
What I’d previously thought was me defying my teacher’s grim prophecy by being hot, fuckable, visible, and middle-aged was, I think, me seeming hot etc. because I passed for ten years younger.
But suddenly my years have caught up with me and I’m kind of hitting the wall.
I’ve gained 40lbs even though I’ve had the same food and exercise habits for years. I have that cellulite texture on my upper arms now. I think I’m gaining weight differently than I used to, in that I’ve been this weight (or close to it) before and my calves and lower belly weren’t this big. My face looks noticeably older than it did five years ago. My sex drive is wonkus and my clit doesn’t get hard anymore and the doctor I saw about this basically shrugged and said “You’re in your 40s. It’s probably just age-related sexual dysfunction, same as men get.*” I’m pretty sure my tits have fallen a notch lower (although the weight gain has made them two sizes bigger, which I admit has been kinda fun). I heal crazy slowly these days, which I thought was a symptom of a food sensitivity maybe but the dietician I saw didn’t seem to think so and when I told my doctor “I’ve had this bruise on my leg since January” she didn’t seem particularly fazed (I think it may have been The Bunny who suggested, “maybe you’re just old.”) My circulation seems to be going downhill; my feet are always cold and my hands have started falling asleep all the time when I’m not even sitting in that weird of a position. I actually wonder if circulation issues are the issue behind my slow healing; most of the shit that won’t heal is on my shins. Wounds elsewhere on my body have healed faster. My vision is changing – I already wore glasses but now it bugs me to try to focus through them on anything closer than arm’s length so I’ve been taking them off a lot when I eat meals with people and stuff, so I feel like I can properly see them. But focusing on really close-up stuff is hard, too.
When people ask my age now, they don’t get surprised by the answer. And I’m scared for my career prospects because as much as people tell me I’m a good art model, I don’t know for sure how much people dig me for my work or how much of it was related to my actual figure/face/etc. which is now rapidly changing. I feel like every artists’ blog I see is full of life drawings that just happen to be of thin women with conventionally attractive proportions and I wonder if I’m doomed.
But anyway. Obviously all this stupid shit my body is doing isn’t ever going to be fun, but I’m kinda thinking it’s my depression and anxiety that are making me this bummed out about it all. But I don’t know for sure and it feels like the only way to tell is to wait it out and see if my mood lifts on its own. Feh.
*Which I refuse to believe, by the way. I’ve been having these issues for years – since my mid-to-late thirties. Men in their mid-to-late thirties aren’t known for having erectile dysfunction, and I didn’t think it was really that big a problem even for men in their forties. Plus it feels like most other women talk about being huge horndogs at this age so WTF? Plus I’ve had legit psychologically shitty things happen to me that could easily cause sexual issues. And I told all this to the doctor, yet his diagnosis was still “meh, you’re old” which feels really fucking dismissive.