Or maybe it’s just perimenopause.
Maybe it’s perimenopause. Maybe it’s what all women go through when life becomes overwhelming. And maybe no one should feel like this. And maybe we all feel like this.
It all started while I was binging reels on social media of women ranting about how their bodies were changing (not for the better) and their emotions were raging and their hormones were off balance and their hair was falling out and they were stressed and not just normal stressed out, but the kind that is all-consuming, panic-inducing, mind-bending stress. And maybe it’s perimenopause. And maybe it’s what all women go through when life becomes overwhelming. And maybe no one should feel like this. And maybe we all feel like this. And maybe the world is well and truly ending. But let’s keep up with everything, including the Jones’s! And maybe I just want to scream a little bit.
But I felt so seen, watching these women rant and rave and question their life’s decisions!
It’s the era of gentle parenting, which I truly believe in and subscribe to. Most of the time. When I’m not freaking out, over-stimulated, and overwhelmed. But it’s certainly not the era of gracious and gentle self love. Not when this sarcastic, bitter rage boils through my innards and I just want to scream a little bit.
And I’m working full time and parenting full time and trying to be a good wife and daughter. I’m trying to give my children something I didn’t have. I’m trying to create a space where they can safely emote and know they can come to me whenever they need a shoulder, a hug, and a tickle. But I’m over stimulated and trying not to scream, but sure sweetie - tell me how you really feel about the limits on screen time I’m trying to enforce so you aren’t a walking zombie! Let me take that deep breath I tell you works to help when you feel a little worried. Hang on - I need about two hundred of them as I go lock myself in my bathroom for a few minutes and try to ignore the calls for “Mommy!” when you’re in the same room as your dad but insist on looking for me!
I’m trying to remember what it feels like to really laugh out loud when all I really want to do is scream and rage. And I’m proud of myself when I don’t, like the times my husband takes my chips to snack and kick up his feet. There was a time when I really didn’t care that the pillows on the couch were crooked. When did I start wanting all this control? Or maybe it’s just perimenopause. And why is it even called that? Like there’s any pausing really going on! It’s just a barrage of information, complaints, requests, decisions, bills, new symptoms… like when did my back start cracking so much as I get out of bed?
Or maybe it’s just perimenopause.
Maybe I just need a nap.