Facing the Change

I’m kind of relieved. I thought it was me. And per usual, I took a side trip down Worst Case Scenario Road. Turns out, I’m not the only one. I’m also not the worst person in the world, nor am I insane, nor am I going to forget where I live in the near future. The answer, my friends, is perimenopause.

Look, I’m only on the cusp of 48. I think I’m pretty young, very healthy and fairly fit. Thanks to an addiction to tennis, I exercise regularly. But there was no denying that something was up. The times, and my body, were a-changing.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say that until I read this article in More Magazine, I had visions of a bleak future. One where family holidays would consist of me sitting in a room alone and my kids and husband in another room, having this discussion:

“I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I think it has to do with 8th grade.”

“Yeah, well, she called me by your name today. We’re not even the same sex!”

“You think that’s bad? I forgot to rinse my dishes this morning and you’d think I’d thrown away her new People Magazine.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t matter what you say to her, she can’t hear it and she’ll never remember it. She’s turned into a human black hole.”

Ugh, you get the picture. Memory loss, irritability and a whole host of unpleasant odds and ends are making day to day life with me rather, um, challenging. According to the article, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A journey, which I’ve only just embarked upon.

Wish me, and more importantly, my family, the best of luck. We’re going to need it.