Usually, it’s this philosopher’s wont to cover topics of interest, or the moment.

The thing I love most about writing this blog is the freedom I have to choose completely different topics, engaging in an array of things is part of my personality. So, reader, this is one subject that I really am reticent to put pen to paper about, but with Menopause Awareness Day coming up on October 18^th, and in the spirit of personal stories helping others feel they are not alone, I am gritting my teeth to share my experience.

Just over 3 years ago, life was pretty sweet. I have always believed that if you work hard enough and believe in your dreams sufficiently, anyone can achieve anything. At this point I had invested time in training in Crossfit and ultramarathon running, and enjoyed competing in quite a few events. I had the kernel of an idea for taking the plunge and setting up my own business one day. I had a ton of friends and a positive, can-do outlook.

I went on holiday with my friend and we both were keen to flop on the sun loungers and recharge our batteries for the first day or two. And although we did do other stuff as the week went on, this wasn’t like a normal holiday, where you start feeling really rested as the week goes on. I still felt shattered, and what is technically known as “a bit weird”.

Over the course of the rest of the summer, this continued. I started putting on weight at a rapid rate, despite not changing my diet or training. I always felt tired, regardless of how much rest I’d had. I began feeling incredibly sad, emotional, negative, hopeless and helpless, really frequently, and in no relation to external factors.

I became a frequent flyer at my doctors’ surgery, reciting these symptoms to a variety of locums and practice staff. I gave tons of different samples and had more blood tests than I care to remember. It felt like one big solo struggle, most of this time.

Fast forward many months and after a bunch of scans, tests for cancer and the joyous internal pelvic ultrasound experience, I got diagnosed with Premature Ovarian Insufficiency (POI). This is basically early menopause, but if it happens when you’re under 40 it gets a special classification with a stupid acronym, which you never actually use because nobody without POI, has ever heard of it. The other reason I never use this medical classification is that, the early menopause has changed every single part of my life and personality, so I at least want the gravitas of the term describing a whole condition and not just sounding like a specific part of my body is a bit dodgy but the rest is ok.

With no disrespect meant to any of the professionals who have treated and supported me, the support for people experiencing early menopause is centred around the grief you may feel about probably not being able to have children (I never wanted any), or recommending types of HRT (I never wanted any but tried some anyway).

Fast forward another couple of years, during which I tried a few forms of HRT, and got to tick off several more of the classic perimenopausal symptoms, like hot and cold flashes, vast weight fluctuations, erratic periods.

Things I discovered include:

HRT massively massively affects my emotions and coping ability, and took me over the threshold from feeling like crap to feeling utterly, utterly pointless and crying every day as if it was as routine as drinking water (also, it didn’t really help alleviate the symptoms).

It’s a right chore having to change your bedclothes and nightdress every sodding day because they are drenched in sweat.

Pregnancy tests in the bogs of St Austell Asda because your period didn’t show up for ages are no fun.

And the very worst thing that I discovered was:

The perimenopause (ie, the period until when you are deemed to have fully gone through the menopause, 12 months of no period showing up) can last UP TO TWELVE YEARS.

This means I am 39 months in to potentially 144 months of this exquisite albatross.

There probably aren’t any further words to convey how I feel about this! But in the spirit of raising awareness as we come up to that Menopause Awareness Day, if you take one thing away – NEVER comment on what someone is wearing. If they are wearing less or more than you yourself, it’s probably because it’s a hot or cold flash day. That person wearing the vest top in autumn would LOVE to feel the cold like you. They wouldn’t love to have to explain their menopause to you or allude to a hormonal condition so you stopped going on about it (trust me on that one).

Next fortnight, I’ll be musing On Horror. It kinda feels like I’ve been doing that this time around! Please get in touch with any particular aspects of this topic you’d like me to write about.

In the meantime,

Happy Planning