I Thought I Was Dying, Turns Out It Was Menopause
I don’t write much about menopause because it’s such a bummer of a topic. I think we can all agree there’s nothing pleasant about it—except maybe when it’s over. And even then, you’re left with dryness almost everywhere, barely-there estrogen, thinning hair, and extra pounds. Still, since this blog is for women over 40 so I suppose I should give it a little press time.
I’m almost 60 now, and my menopause story started about 15 years ago. In true overachiever fashion (except in the boob department—they didn’t show up until after college), I got my first period early and hit menopause early, too.
The symptoms kicked in around 40, and I genuinely thought I was dying. I went to the doctor, convinced something was seriously wrong. Nope. Just my hormones pulling the rug out from under me, setting my body on fire, and me wanting to scream Somebody help me! Oh my God! Oh my God!
It was a real kick in the pants I didn’t see coming. I remember being irrationally angry at my ovaries, wondering why menopause had to be such a big production. Why couldn’t they retire quietly and ride off into the hormonal sunset instead of staging a full-on revolt?
I never grieved over my fertility—I was fine with that part. But mentally? I started questioning every decision I’d ever made, from life goals to whether eating a whole pizza solo was a mistake (it wasn’t) to the 3 a.m. cookie binges. (Also justified. FYI, self-soothing is a legitimate coping strategy.)
My personality also took a detour. I developed two distinct moods: Delightful and Call For An Exorcism. I didn’t know which one would show up at any given moment (and sometimes still don’t), but I can tell you there were times when someone was innocently speaking, and I felt so irrationally annoyed that I was contemplating devouring their head. The mood swings have calmed down, but there’s still a simmering layer of… what? Rage? Irritation? A short temper? I noticed that after menopause, I have less patience for b*llshit and more of a craving for peace and good vibes. I call it entering my IDGAF Stage. I’m guessing many of you are with me on that?
Physically, there were times when my body felt like it had been dropped on the surface of the sun - way too hot to sustain life. The hot flashes, while brief and infrequent, were brutal. At one point, they were so intense, I swear I saw a flying unicorn right before I nearly passed out. Okay, maybe I exaggerated, but only a little. I became a human volcano, and instead of spewing lava, I erupted in sweat. Our refrigerator doubled as an emotional support appliance. Many days, I felt like something the cat dragged in. Or more like something the cat dragged in and horked up in the corner of the room.
Now, before you ask, I will tell you that I skipped medications and hormone therapy—not because I’m ultra-natural - we all know how I can eat a full sleeve of Oreos in one sitting- but because I wasn’t comfortable putting more chemicals into my body. That may not make sense to you, but it made sense to me because…yeah. I don’t know why. Because consuming large amounts of sugar increases serotonin levels, causes a sugar rush and feelings of pleasure, while taking estrogen increases the chances of blood clots and stroke, OKAY?
Instead, I opted for a lifestyle change. I started eating somewhat healthier, exercising more (to offset the insomnia), consuming Omega-3s, using a cooling pillow, and drinking more water. I also loaded up on antacids, because OMG the acid reflux! What a marvelous manifestation that was.
Did any of that make me feel 35 again? No. But it gave me back a little control over a body that felt entirely out of control.
Now that some time has passed, I can look back and ask Was menopause graceful? Absolutely not! It was like being shoved into a hormonal blender for five years and coming out completely different from how I went in. But I made it through. I came out of it fatter, drier with shitty hair, but also wiser and occasionally out of f*cks to give.
If you’re in the thick of it right now, know you’re not alone. We all walk through the fire—sometimes while crying over a commercial or sweating through a tank top in January—but eventually, it cools. And when it does, you’ll emerge from that milestone more in tune with your body. AND you’ll never have to buy another tampon, pad, or pregnancy test again.
Silver linings.
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