The M word

Words and image by me (Fiona)

Imagine, if you will, doing your job, doing your extra curricular activities, living your life.

Planning next month, next quarter, next year.

Then all of a sudden you feel awful. Tired, teary, unable to make decisions.

You stand in the kitchen at lunchtime in tears because you can’t choose what to eat.

And you just know that your life is good! You have a great job, friends, family, a puppy, travel plans. A home and a car. Even a bike and a home gym.

But you are sad, anxious and overwhelmed.

Your ADHD gets worse, you feel all over the place.

You are not coping with your fabulous life.

You don’t like who you are.

Then you feel ok again. For a day, or even 3. Maybe you imagined it?

No, it’s back.

You have to go off camera for a meeting as you are crying for no reason.

So you see your Doctor. Who is fabulous.

She asks some questions.

Do you feel like insects are crawling on your skin when nothing is there? Why yes – I pulled over yesterday as I was so sure an ant or spider was crawling around my ankle only to find nothing there.

Other than the hot flushes (which is the main symptom people talk about!) I have most of the symptoms of menopause.

But it doesn’t end there. I am given choices for management of the symptoms. HRT or antidepressents. I choose HRT.

I start on patches. They help, a little. But not enough. So I start on higher dose patches. Then patches become hard to get in Australia due to shortages. I am putting on 2 patches, each the size of match boxes, and I can feel them constantly.

And it is still not enough.

I drop many of my outside of work projects.

I drop some of my work extras.

And it is still not enough.

If I talk to people about it they sometimes get embarrassed. Like it is something I should be ashamed of. Others are supportive. They may have been there. They may see it on their horizon. But I get nervous about sharing. What if I make others uncomfortable? Something extra to feel anxious about. If I say nothing but I am acting different will people not wonder why? But if I tell them they may not want to know.

And it is still not enough.

So I start on antidepressants. I take a week off work because I am told I will feel worse before I get better. I am aware still that my life and my doctor are amazing. I just don’t feel it.

The antidepressants make me so sick I spend the week on the couch. I persist for 2 weeks.

I can’t keep going. I feel too sick, most of the time.

My doctor is not sure why I reacted that way. She calls the pharmacist and they agree on the next antidepressant for me to try. The patches are back in stock so I only have one matchbox stuck to me at a time. I miss the thumbnail sized ones, but I take what they have.

I dread starting the new antidepressants. What if I get sick again?

I don’t.

I feel immediately better. I don’t feel sick, I don’t feel tired.

These ones take longer to start working. And I have a bad cold. I am a terrible patient. I complain. I whine. I share my suffering. But that is me, not menopause.

So I wait. In weeks to come I hope to feel more like me again. The me it took me a long time to learn to love. If not, I will keep trying.

And I have been warned, adjustments will be needed along this path. As my hormone levels keep changing.

I am sorry if this post makes you uncomfortable. But I can almost guarantee menopause is making me, and most women who go through it, even less comfortable.

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