I haven’t been myself lately. Something is not quite right.
Perimenopause can suck it.
I had a birthday a few weeks ago. It was lovely. A day of celebration for Mother’s Day as well. A double celebration. Family, food and love.
But underneath the smiles and hugs, I was struggling to stay afloat. It was an irrational sadness. Like someone was stepping on my happy self.
None of the happy things I like to do was helping. I wasn’t even interested in them.
I had no patience for anything. Downright grouchy. Susceptible to bursting in to tears or growling at someone at any moment.
I really wanted to just curl up under a blanket and read or watch movies. I wanted a cocoon, where I could hide from life for a few weeks.
Of course, being who I am, that’s not exactly a wise plan of action. Or inaction. I have things to do. I don’t have time for a long term funk!
Nevertheless, the funk was hanging on tight. I just couldn’t shake the cloud I was under. And then to kick things up a notch, my anxiety decided to climb aboard. It was a party for my emotional dysfunctions.
I was holding on to gratitude like a life-raft. Just focus on the good things and keep going, Lex.
I thought maybe I need to go to counseling. I was getting annoyed with myself.
Finally I emerged from the drowning despair.
I realized the culprit in this puzzle.
My god, how long is this going to last? As if the hot flashes aren’t bad enough?
As if living through years of monthly cramps, headaches, dealing with periods, pregnancy, and postpartum aren’t bad enough for us women? This is quite the bitter cherry on top.
Well, at least I know I’m not going crazy.
But oh wait, it’s starting all over again. Here come the hormones.
And the grouch.
Back Away Slowly
Please tell me I’m not crazy. This is a real thing right? What can I do besides just smile through it and hope for the best?