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Just Because You're Paranoid... Doesn't Mean You're Not Peri-Menopausal
2005 by Kay Stoner
If I were a conspiracy theory kinda gal, that's what I'd think
peri-menopause is -- a conspiracy.
No sooner do I reach a point in my life, where I can
genuinely say, "I've made it," than my world starts to fall apart.
Not all of it, mind you -- my professional life is solid, my
home life is great and getting better all the time, and many
of the everyday questions that had me at a loss when I was 20 years
younger have been cleared up, either by experience or by
highly-paid professional advisors.
But deep down inside, where no one can see, things are
just plain going to hell. Maybe the rest of the world can't
tell that my memory keeps slipping, or that my temper has
become hot enough to melt glass, or that I haven't slept
restfully and solidly through the night in more than a year...
but I know. How I know. I've gained weight, despite working
like a madwoman for 18 months on a Very Large Project
at work. My temper's fuse grows shorter with each passing
week. My fingernails seem uncharacteristically brittle, and
although I haven't had to completely disrobe in a steaming
sweat in public, I am starting to get hot flashes. What's
more, the hairs on my arm are turning darker and thicker
than they've ever been. I'm not turning grey (yet), but instead,
someone else's hair is growing in place of my own. All my life,
I've had thin, fine brown hair. But now, suddenly, I have thick,
black hair sprouting from my head. I've turned unaccountably
dyslexic after a lifetime of rattling off numbers and spellings
with no problem. And my period is definitely "out of whack"
-- sometimes 3 weeks apart, sometimes 6 weeks, sometimes
lasting for 10-14 days, with cramps setting in at completely
different intervals than usual.
Yes, things are changing -- and disturbingly so, when I consider
that I used to be able to set my calendar and clock by my periods,
I've never had issues with spelling or number order in all my life,
and my temper has never been this volatile or this violent. I've
been to my doctor, and she's taken blood and checked my
hormone levels. She assures me that everything is in the
"acceptable range." But she's not living in my skin, finding
herself suddenly incapable of doing so many things she took
for granted for the first 40 years of her life. My doctor assures
me that it could be stress-related, but I've got news for her --
six months after the Very Large Project completed, I've got
less stress, but more symptoms than ever.
It's terribly unfair. I should be at the top of my game, right now.
I've been out in the working world, honing my skills, for the past
18 years, and at this point in my life, by rights I should be
ready to rocket skyward with all due haste. I'm very good at
what I do, and I've got considerably more experience than
many, if not most, of my co-workers. They look to me for
guidance and assistance. They expect a great deal from me,
not least of which are leadership and confidence. And yet,
even as more certainty is demanded of me each day, I feel
so many of the given certainties of my life slipping away...
like the reason I walked into the room to-- what did I come
here for...? My increasingly frequent forgetfulness, quite frankly,
freaks me out. Perhaps paranoia is yet another symptom
of this Change.
No, it's just not right. After ovulating for 27 years, I've finally
gotten comfortable with my body's rhythms, but now it's
decided to start marching to a different tune. My physical
well-being is unpredictable at best, ephemeral at worst.
My emotional health is a roller-coaster without safety rails
on the seats. My ability to concentrate has eroded to the
point where my mind simply stops thinking about a Very
Difficult Question at just The Wrong Time. At a stage in my
life, when I need to be at the peak of my physical, mental
and emotional abilities, to compete in this economy and
job market, my body is directly working against me. And
it's only a matter of time until someone notices that my
"lapses" have been going on for years, puts 2 and 2 together,
and decides that maybe a younger, more predictable person
would be better suited to my job. On the inside I cringe as
my menopausal symptoms intensify, while on the outside I
scramble to cover my change-of-life tracks.
I think this is why a lot of women -- especially professionals --
don't like to think or talk about menopause, unless we're
pressed -- or we're in private. So many of us have had to
work so hard, to get where we are, if we let on that we're
"slipping" now (when market pressure and a fresh new
workforce are threatening to edge us out of the way) it may
jeopardize our ability to compete. It's bad enough that we're
getting older -- I don't care what anyone says, getting older
still carries more stigma for women than for men -- but we're
getting genuinely less capable as well? The timing of
menopause couldn't be worse. The professional world can
be such a cut-throat arena, and the last thing we women
need, after being told all our lives, "You can't do the job
because you're a girl," is to have the prophecy actually
come true when we're grown women. For me (and I imagine,
for many other women), menopause is the fulfillment of my
worst nightmares -- apparent proof positive that women
really can't keep up with the Big Boys in the Big Bad World
of Business.
But the myth about me "drying up and blowing away"
as I go through the Change is just that -- a myth. And
even if it does manifest, with thinning vaginal walls and
less wetness during sex, so what? That's what steroid
creams and K-Y are for. Menopause certainly isn't the
first hurdle I've had to overcome on my climb to the top.
I've had to deal with crippling PMS, unfair compensation,
lacking work-life balance, stress-related illness, family
traumas and deaths, discrimination, sexism, the albatross
of cliches about "girls," and a host of other obstacles that
haven't killed me, but have made me stronger. I've gone
through plenty, and I've come out fighting on the other
side, so a bunch of hormonal changes, however dramatic
they may seem, don't really have the power to derail my
career path. If women have collectively overcome the
institutionalized roadblocks that stood in our way 20-30
years ago, and we've managed to make our presences
known in the professional world, we can certainly overcome
the challenges of menopause -- and become better
persons as a result. And if billions of women have been
going through this Change for aeons and didn't dry up
and blow away, I can do just as well for myself.
Around me, the world spins on its regular course, with
odd looks coming my way, now and then, when I "don't
seem like myself." My daily abilities and responsibilities
remain constant -- and increasing. My life is as eventful
as ever, and now my body is joining in the fun. On the
outside, everything's fine, while on the inside, a vast and
deep-rooted conspiracy threatens to dislodge me from my
position of respect and seniority, just as the next generation
of movers and shakers are launching campaigns for my job...
and the spectre of job offshoring threatens the livelihood
which keeps my mortgage paid.
But like the quote says ... I think... "Youth and beauty are no
match for age and experience."
I've been around too long and I've accomplished too much in
my life, to start doubting myself now, ovulation or no. Like
Sigourney Weaver in Alien II, strapping herself into the
mechanical exoskeleton and readying to do battle with
her nemesis, I say to my newly peri-menopausal life,
Bring It On.
About the Author:
Kay Stoner is the creator of "The Cycle Calendar", a 5-year
monthly menopausal minder, which lets (peri)menopausal women
keep track of their change-of-life symptoms all in one convenient
place. For more information on The Cycle Calendar, visit
www.cyclecalendar.net or e-mail the author at info@...
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