We've all had those inexplicable grumpy days. But during menopause, they can strike without warning. As someone who's navigated this for years, I can attest it's normal—though not always easy.
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Once, I blamed mood swings on my period. Now in perimenopause, it's clearly the hormonal shifts—or so I tell myself. My kids and husband sometimes get the side-eye too.
Overall, I'm faring well through menopause. I've rediscovered myself with minimal complaints. Ask my family? Their take might differ, as you can imagine.
At 47, I've dealt with menopause symptoms for years—starting before age 40, unusually early.
It began with intense night sweats that left me drenched and irritable. Imagine waking up soaked, not from a partner (those days are long gone), but your own internal thermostat gone haywire. During flares, I need space—no hugs, please. It was my private torment at first.
Then daytime hot flashes hit. I layer with a vest over my shirt, shedding it 8 times daily. Exasperating, and yes, it fuels the grumpiness.
Beyond the heat surges, everything loosens: skin slackens despite collagen efforts, belly softens, and energy wanes. I used to power through; now I drag, craving weekend wine by midweek.
Moisture issues abound everywhere except where needed—vaginal dryness and tightness. Thankfully, devices like the Silk'n Tightra help, but that's another topic.
Worse than symptoms? Family comments. If periods tested patience, menopause amplifies it. A minor remark feels like a jab; chocolate offers no solace.
I get they mean well—empathy goes far during episodes. Mother Nature's timing is cruel: menopause often coincides with teens at home, doubling the drama (they devour the chocolate too!).
