My Menopause Journey - Part 1
In a previous blog, I promised that I would share something a little more personal — my own journey through menopause, midlife, thyroid issues, injuries and, quite honestly, some pretty big bumps in the road.
Well, with today being World Menopause Day, it feels like the perfect time to finally start telling that story.
I'm sharing it in the hope that my experience might help someone else realise that we are only human. Whatever our job, whatever our knowledge, it's still hard to acknowledge that something is changing, accept it and reach out for help.
And this isn't about blaming anyone. Looking back, I can see that I was experiencing a very complex mix of symptoms, and I didn't understand what was happening to me either. So, let's go back nearly six years.
I was 49.
Something was changing
I'd always been active. I've exercised all my life, I've always considered myself fit and healthy, and exercise was a huge part of who I was. But suddenly, things were changing. I couldn't seem to control my weight.
I was exhausted — completely and utterly exhausted — and I started forgetting silly, everyday things.
At first, I put it down to work. I was working ridiculous hours and thought perhaps I was simply overtired.
Then my emotions started to change. I became much more emotional than normal. I'd break down and cry, sometimes for no obvious reason, and then become incredibly angry. It didn't feel like me.
My claustrophobia seemed to become much worse too, and the dizzy spells I'd experienced in the past started coming back. I thought perhaps I just needed a break. So I took some time off work. And yes, I slept. Boy, did I sleep.
But my sleep was broken. I'd wake every couple of hours and couldn't settle properly. I wasn't feeling refreshed.
I was still exhausted.
Could it be my thyroid?
There is a history of thyroid problems in my family, so I had some blood tests. I was told I was "borderline".
But what does borderline actually mean when you're the person sitting there feeling completely unlike yourself?
Meanwhile, the weight kept going on. And mentally, I found that incredibly difficult.
I was exercising five or six days a week. I'd always been active. I knew about nutrition. I knew about exercise.
So why couldn't I control my weight? What was wrong with me?
My iron levels were also very low again. I've always been anaemic, so I hoped increasing my iron supplements would help. But there were still so many other things going on.
My weight.
My exhaustion.
My emotions.
My memory.
My dizziness.
My sleep.
My anxiety.
My changing body.
I couldn't see how all the pieces fitted together.
Then came the injury
As if everything else wasn't enough, I tore the meniscus in my left knee. For someone who had always exercised five or six days a week, this was devastating. Exercise wasn't just something I did. It was part of my identity.
And suddenly I couldn't do what I'd always done.
My training was severely restricted, my weight was still increasing and emotionally I felt completely drained.
Eventually, I reached a point where I had a complete breakdown and had to take time away from work.
I didn't want to go out or socialise. The thought of being in crowds or leaving the house made me feel sick and could trigger panic attacks.
And then things became frightening.
When things became really frightening
My memory problems became much more severe.
There was a point when I couldn't even remember my own name.
I remember waking one morning and screaming because I didn't recognise the man lying beside me.
It was my husband.
But in that moment, I didn't know that.
There were times when I would leave the house and walk the streets, completely lost and not knowing where I was or who I was.
My husband would have to go looking for me.
At one point, I carried a little pad in my pocket with my details and my husband's details on it — just in case I became lost or couldn't remember who I was. I'd even forgotten how to drive the car.
Looking back now, it sounds unbelievable. But it was my reality.
I was experiencing panic attacks, nausea, sickness, dizzy spells, hot and cold sweats and a level of anxiety that made the world feel incredibly frightening. I genuinely thought I was going completely mad. And I remember saying to my husband:
"Please don't send me away."
Three years of trying to find answers
It took three years before I finally got the start of the help I needed.
And I want to be careful about how I tell this part of my story.
There were so many things going on — thyroid issues, iron deficiency, menopause, sleep problems, anxiety, depression, injuries and weight gain.
Looking back, I can understand that it wasn't necessarily straightforward to put all those pieces together.
But for me, the hardest part was knowing that something was seriously wrong and not knowing how to explain it.
Eventually, with my husband's help and encouragement, I managed to get myself to another GP appointment.
Even getting through that door was a huge achievement.
I don't remember a huge amount about that appointment, but I do remember finally seeing someone who listened, recognised that I needed further help and referred me to a specialist.
That referral became a turning point.
It was the beginning of another two-year journey to find my way back to me. I was still a long way from the person I used to be. But for the first time in a very long time, I felt that perhaps there was a way forward.
And that's where I'll leave this part of my story.
Because what happened next changed everything.
More to come...
Comments