Six or so months ago, I fell out with my husband while we were watching a movie on the sofa.
We were 10 minutes into the film and he said: “We’ve seen this before.”
“No we haven’t,” I replied. “I don’t remember it at all.”
He went on to tell me the plot – even the ending.
I was incensed. I still didn’t remember a thing. I shouted.
My reaction was disproportionate. But let me tell you about the weeks leading up to that moment.
I’d found newly-bought toothbrushes (for which I’d been searching, for days) at the back of the fridge, behind the cheese.
Fermented yoghurts had turned up in a drawer. Sausages from the butcher… well I’ve yet to find them.
I’d been filming Homes Under The Hammer when, during a piece to camera, as I was describing the swirly oranges and browns of dated decor, I had to stop mid-way because I couldn’t remember the word for carpet.
“What’s it called again?” I asked the cameraman, pointing down.
“Er, a carpet?” he said.
Exercise was a slog. And – unbelievable as it sounds – I’d forgotten the word ‘bye’ when I was sending the kids off to school.
Instead I waved inanely until I remembered. And all the while, I felt a bit sad. Like the surface of normal life and emotions was always a little out of reach.
In short, I thought there was something terribly wrong with me.
And that night, my husband bore the full, paranoid brunt of that fear.
Early menopause was surprise diagnosis
But there were other symptoms too. Hot flushes that took over my body often and with aggression.
And the anger.
Boy was I angry. And only partly because my waist, never quite the same after three kids, had suddenly and completely disappeared.
I put it off for months before I finally had a blood test.
And when I went for the results, my doctor said: “You’re done.”
(She said a bit more but, in essence, she was talking about the menopause.)
She explained I had no oestrogen left. I had weathered the perimenopause – the run up to being fully menopausal which is defined as having had your last period a year ago – and I was out the other side.
The average age in the UK to experience menopause is 51. But aged 45 (now 46) I was done and dusted. Early perimenopause had possibly kicked in when I was 44.
It can happen early for many reasons, including trauma, stress, or genetics. As with so much of life, sometimes it’s just one of those things.
Menopause symptoms can be tough – early or not
You can’t avoid reading about symptoms of the menopause in magazines, newspapers and Davina McCall’s social media right now.
No one used to talk about ‘the change’. Now everyone is talking about it, with seemingly every forty-something claiming brain fog at school drop off.
I should have known that’s what it was. But I had no idea just how hard it could hit the brain and body.
Some women have symptoms for a decade. I’d had the edited highlights for – I’d guess – around six months.
Some don’t have any symptoms. Some have debilitating depression and suicidal thoughts.
Now, I’ve decided I’m lucky.
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I’m lucky to have gone through it so quickly; lucky to have had children before it happened; and lucky that we’re talking about it.
Generations before didn’t have that luxury.
I’m taking HRT in the form of patches.
Often they relieve the horrors of night sweats and forgetfulness but I didn’t get there in time.
They do, however, protect bones and brain – especially for early onset.
And I believe the benefits outweigh the risks.
Some friends say they feel as if HRT saved their lives – or at least their marriages.
Another preferred a natural course of vitamins and healthy living.
Everyone’s course of action is their choice and theirs alone.
Biggest menopause secret? It’s not all bad
The only negative about the increase in commentary around this inevitable stage in every woman’s life is that it focuses on the awfulness of it all.
I haven’t written about this for many months. After all, it’s private, right?
But finally, after listening to the most recent episode of Gabby Logan’s superb Midpoint podcast, with magazine editor Lorraine Candy as her guest, I was inspired.
Because journalism and writing should seek to tell the truth, and honesty helps others.
So, for anyone still to get to perimenopause, I’m here to tell you it’s ok.
You’ll get out the other side and be stronger yet softer for it.
Look at all the research which shows we hit a low point in midlife but emerge happier and looking for a deeper meaning to the rest of our lives.
And look at me.
I’m no longer leaving toothbrushes in the fridge and I remember the word for carpet. I mostly remember movies I’ve watched. And there’s been no fermented yoghurt found for a while.
As for my waist – well, that’s a work in progress.
As ever, please get in touch if you want to share experiences or just have a chat about hormones.
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