A couple of weeks ago I turned another year older. The number doesn't bother me...not really. I'm far healthier in mind and body than I was a decade ago. Happier. Content-er. But on one of the health blogs I read there was a questionnaire..."Could you be in perimenopause?" I figured, being Officially half way to the American female life expectancy, what the hell?
Turns out, I'm not. But what I am is a 43 year old woman raising two high-spirited, high-achieving children, married to a doctor's note carrying batcrap crazy husband, and working three jobs (well, one part time and two free lance, done from home but still with obligations and people paying me jobs). The symptoms kind of overlapped. Like when, a few years ago, my doctor was convinced I had mono but the tests all came back negative, and I reminded him I had two young children. Apparently he wasn't the first doctor to mistake Mommy Fatigue for mono.
For so long now I've been functioning in Survival Mode. Making sure everyone around me is taken care of, ignoring my own needs. I'm slowly taking steps (with the support of this amazing little family and equally amazing friends) to fix that. Baby steps. But still Steps. Because I shouldn't allow myself to be exhausted to the point of mimicking chronic diseases or major hormonal changes.