Feeling utterly slayed, spent, depleted.  Bloated, aching, stretched out in bed.  Dark circles under my eyes.  Lots of blood.  Three weeks later, another round, still lots of blood.  Moody, irritable, sad.  Baseline temperature: hot. Occasional spikes, or hot flashes, which actually produce a sweat and soggy sheets.  But an ongoing heat, a desire for cooler air, moving air, both.

That’s what it is looking like for me.  I’m 46.  It feels way too early.

Don’t get me wrong, I am ready to be done with my period.  That feels like an outdated relic of my youth.  But, still, I am not ready for all of these changes!

And as I go one layer deeper, the truth is I am not prepared to go through this alone.  And if I somehow missed partnering in my youth, the odds must only be getting worse! Which puts me alone in my 50’s.  Which puts me in a very bad/sad mood, indeed.

Add to the picture my very active 8 year old asking me to pick her up, swing her around, to dance with her, to jump around with her, to pull her up onto the high master bed.  Look at me!  Look at this!  Mahh-am, can you bring me a towel, help me clean my room, make me dinner, take me to so and so’s house, help me with my homework, etc.

I actually love making Ava’s lunch & breakfast, preparing us healthy food, helping her with her homework. But I am exhausted, and sad.  I want to curl up in my self-pity, in my confused longing, in my emptiness, my empty-ing process.

My sister is gifting me a book on the Seven Rites of Menopause.  This feels like the way. Dive into the emotion, the full-emptiness.  Honor, make sacred with ritual, with mindfulness. Gather with sisters who have already passed through.

When I make the time to do my mantra practice, I feel deeply nourished. When I walk.  When I am in nature.  These things feel incredibly important these days.

Perimenopause feels like a deep shedding, of blood and of the past.  Of who I thought I was, who I thought I’d be.  Of projections and hopes.  It feels like a landing.  Right now, like a slaying, as mentioned above.  An evisceration by the gods.  Poking through my innards to asses who I’ve been so far, showing me what is real and what can take me, naked, vulnerable, wise, into the future.

One response »

  1. Hm. I hear you. You are right: those moments are a phase on their own, moments to feel deep, inward, powerful emotions mixed with disturbing body feelings. And the question: is this era going to be good to me, or is this THE end of me??
    Sister, I’m with you!
    Let’s hang on and take the time to birth new sides of ourselves that are yet to be discovered (I hope!)…

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