For the last couple of weeks, my Fitbit has told the story of how, pretty much like clockwork, I can only sleep until 5am (or thereabouts) One might think this was dawn waking me, or perhaps heat, but the real reason is far simpler to rationalise. The menopause is dictating my sleep patterns of late and in the seven days, not only have I awoken to feel as if I was on fire, there’s been nausea. It’s not the type I used to get whilst pregnant either: this is far more unpleasant and frankly disturbing, because yesterday I woke up and just didn’t want to eat. The actual look of anything didn’t even make me feel sick after the fact. This morning, pretty much all my hunger pangs have vanished.
Normally I’d get ravenous after exercise but yesterday I realised that’s gone too. This morning I could very easily have skipped breakfast and not felt any the worse for it, when normally on a weekend I’d be desperate to eat. In fact, this week’s diet plan (because that’s effectively what this is, two weeks watching the numbers) has produced the opposite effect of what normally transpires. When I know I’m supposed to be good, the urge to snack is overwhelming. Instead there is no urge any more. There is no nothing. What I thought would be an exercise in self control has turned into an adventure in indifference. The final nail in the coffin yesterday was chocolate, which when offered to me as a reward for 5 days of exemplary eating I just didn’t desire at all.
I am a different person, and I’m not sure I like it.
I’ve also been as moody as fuck in the last ten days, and everybody is suffering. This is not ideal, and however much I think I’m dealing with the changes, I’m really not, this is pretty much subsistence after the fact. That means once this is written I’m going to do my damnedest not to look at social media or a phone for the rest of the day. Scheduling allows me to send this stuff into the ether remotely and then I’m going to try and make some sense of the disaster area that is my house and the things around it. It is the ultimate irony that everything I have an interest in doing is demanding attention simultaneously, but what requires the most effort is the thing making the least noise. So, to try and filter out some of the distraction, I need to step away.
When even the GIFs don’t make me happy, there’s a real problem that needs to be solved.