Finding myself as the alter-ego of my menopausal ego did not happen overnight!
Dolly seeped into my life when unbeknown to me I was considered to be in my peri-menopause stage of maturity. Yep, the eggs had started to die off. It appears I did not hunt out the nearest botox technician or indeed hit the gym. The way I inadvertently dealt with the persistence of time was to allow a worm hole big enough for the encroachment of Dolly Slatemen. She was always there, having been a pub landlady for many years I had been using her personality on many occasions to deal with certain situations I found myself in. (The time I caught the oldest member of staff piddling in the bar sink will always resonate). However once the "Peri" had hit, Dolly was not prepared to be used in such a nonchalant manner. She forced her way forward from a mish-mash of experience and hidden personality traits and frankly has refused to go back since. Her presence is so valid now, at times we both agree I am considered to be the alter ego.
Initially I can't say I liked her. In the early days I would dread performing - letting her out conjures up images of the film "Magic" with Anthony Hopkins. The first time I performed at Edinburgh (Bearing in mind this was only the second time I had given her a stage in my life) I made the fatal mistake of not allowing her carte blanche. At the time I could not see the audience, this is in fact a lesson that I constantly remind others. Remember kids, you can't see diddly on stage with full lights on. I was like a rabbit in the headlights. To this day I still do not know what I said. When the mist finally cleared, I could see a mother protecting her two girls holding her arms around them, it was like something out of a horror film. Later I found myself crying in a bush in Assembly George Gardens on the phone to my sister, spitting out leaves whilst I cried"I don't know what I'm doing here," she replied "We don't know what you're doing there either."
But Dolly would not go away, she is brash, adores animal print and is rarely knocked of her self-made faux fur pedestal. She first came on the scene in a Funny Women work shop and was like the aggressive teenager who has to much cider at the family party, with too much energy and without a clue what to do with it. I would cringe when friends would say "That is you drunk." I could not get rid of her, if anything her very being began to create more dimensions than a stag do on the Starship Enterprise. So much so, that now I feel there is a clear definition between the two of us (Phew!) This revelation has found me in a unique place as now I can ponder on my egos' and use them for their best possible advantages when dealing with hormones.
WTF is that all about? By now if you have been following this blog, you will have to acknowledge that hormones are not only responsible for changes in the physical, hot flushes brain fog, to name a few of our generation game nudgers that we will no doubt discuss in the future. I draw your attention to the fact that I have openly admitted on the world wide web that the Menopause is responsible for my multiple personalities. Hold off the trolley and don't wiz me off yet, I want to share this experience with you, well anyone really...... Its not just about the Menopause. Dolly and I started a journey that I have no doubt will continue for many years to come. She is the Thelma to my Louise the Oestrogen to my Progesterone...... She has made the Menopause bearable. Now I am not saying you have to go out and get another personality, well unless you want to. Who am I too judge? Indeed who is anyone? I am saying however that she has given me a platform to breathe and although I hate her coat, its the best jacket I've ever worn.
I now get it Ziggy Stardust, cause I didn't have a clue back then when my eggs were alive and kicking.
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