The Jigsaw

Notes from the Margins

One morning I was trail running along the edge of Winter Hill and I glanced down and felt an unfamiliar wave of unease. "Hope I don’t fall off" I thought. At the time, it seemed like a passing fear.

Looking back, I now see it was the first piece of a much larger puzzle, my own jigsaw of perimenopause.

perimenopause has been just that for me, a complex and evolving puzzle. Gradually over time, I’ve started piecing it together.

While I now have most of the picture, and it's taken years, there are still gaps, still pieces that I’m slowly fitting into place.

I had a year of loss. My beloved dog, my friend, and my distant but still significant mother, all within 365 days, during the pandemic.

The grief was consuming and I coped the only way I knew how, by escaping to the trails and moors. The outdoors waw my refuge, a place to process, or at least manage, my pain.

Sometimes, all you can do is climb a hill and think of nothing.

But the tiredness lingered. Stress, overthinking, I convinced myself it was due to a toxic work environment I was in and so I left that job, thinking I’d feel better.

As the pandemic unfolded, life became even harder. The doorstep rule took my freedom to roam the trails and moors that had been my solace, and work in healthcare became relentless, with longer hours and mounting stress.

I started gaining weight, most likely as a result of stress (cortisol) poor diet choices, and exhaustion. Perimenopause didn’t even cross my mind. After all I was only in my mid-40s and I attributed my struggles to grief, work stress, and the chaos of the pandemic.

But I was forgetting things constantly, so much so that I kept a diary to stay on top of my work and I even worried I had early onset dementia.

My running suffered, too. Distances I’d once covered easily became impossible. Injuries piled up, recovery took longer. I was too tired, too drained to even try.

My emotions were all over the place. I’d cry over nothing, lose interest in everything, sleep for hours but still feel exhausted. I spiralled with catastrophic thinking that kept me awake at night. Rain sounds on Spotify became my only escape.

My first conversation with a male GP didn’t go well. He dismissed the idea of perimenopause because I was "too young" and prescribed oral contraception to manage heavy bleeding.

Months later when my anxiety became unmanageable, a female GP prescribed me Citalopram. It helped, but it wasn’t the whole solution.

By then I’d watched Davina McCall’s program on menopause, and I started to see the bigger picture. Armed with new information, I made an appointment, in person and with a female GP and I was diagnosed with menopause symptoms and started HRT.

Now years later, I’m on HRT, lifting weights and cycling. I’m working on my diet and putting myself first. The jigsaw isn’t complete yet, but I’m getting there.

Looking back the first piece of the puzzle wasn’t stress, anxiety, weight gain, or the heavy periods. It was something more subtle: a change in my fears.

That morning on Winter Hill, when I worried about falling, was the first sign. An irrational creeping fear, a piece of the jigsaw I only recognised years later

Perimenopause is a minefield. The symptoms are vast and varied. Fatigue, memory lapses, mood swings, anxiety, depression, bloating, insomnia, and much more. It’s misunderstood, dismissed, or overlooked.

Through it all I’ve been fortunate to have the unwavering support of my husband and a handful of incredible friends. They’ve helped me navigate the darkest moments and keep moving forward.

To anyone struggling know that you’re not alone. The pieces of your puzzle will come together, and when they do, you’ll start to see the whole picture, and realise just how strong you are.

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