“Menopause: Why I Sometimes Can’t Be Arsed (And It’s Not Because I’m Lazy)”

Menopause: My Body’s Biggest Software Update Without Asking Permission”

And no, I’m not mad. I’m not miserable. I’m not being difficult. I’m just… absolutely bloody knackered.

I’ve decided it’s time I had a little chat about menopause.

And because I’m me, I’m going to attempt to explain it in the only way I know how: honestly, with a little humour, a little science and probably a few swear words.

I’m also going to mansplain it.

Yes, you read that correctly.

I’m going to mansplain menopause.

Because perhaps if I explain what is actually happening inside a woman’s brain and body, we might stop getting the classic responses:

"Why are you being moody?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Just get on with it."

"You seem miserable."

Or my personal favourite…

"Are you sure you're not depressed?"

No.

Sometimes I'm not depressed.

Sometimes I just have absolutely nothing left to give.

Nothing.

No witty reply.

No enthusiasm.

No desire to go out.

No desire to organise anything.

No desire to answer the phone.

No desire to make a decision about what we're having for dinner.

And occasionally, not even enough energy to pretend that I care about whatever it is you're talking to me about.

And that, my friends, is one of the things I’ve found hardest to explain about menopause.

Sometimes I don't feel sad.

I don't feel angry.

I don't even particularly feel anything.

I just feel… flat.

Like somebody has unplugged me.

And then there are days when I can quite happily run the clinic, talk to clients, be sociable, laugh, work, organise, plan and generally behave like my old self.

And then, seemingly without warning, another day arrives and my brain says:

"Nope. We're not doing anything today."

And you know what?

I'm beginning to understand why.

So, what the bloody hell is actually happening?

Menopause isn't simply about having a hot flush and no longer having periods.

That is the tiny bit everyone knows about.

What people don't always understand is that changing ovarian hormones can affect the brain, nervous system, sleep, mood, memory, muscles, joints, skin, urinary system, sexual health and so much more.

There isn't a neat little menopause box where you tick:

☐ Hot flushes

☐ Periods stopped

☐ Done

Oh no.

Your body apparently likes a challenge.

The NHS lists a huge range of possible symptoms, including hot flushes and night sweats, sleep problems, anxiety, low mood, memory and concentration problems, headaches and migraines, joint and muscle pain, skin changes, hair thinning, reduced libido, vaginal dryness and painful sex, urinary problems and mouth and gum problems.

And that's the bit that can be difficult for people around us to understand.

It isn't necessarily one symptom.

It can be a whole bloody committee of them turning up at the same time.

Hot flushes.

Night sweats.

Brain fog.

Memory loss.

Anxiety.

Panic.

Rage.

Low mood.

Exhaustion.

Poor sleep.

Migraines.

Joint pain.

Itchy skin.

Dry skin.

Hair thinning.

Changes in body shape.

Burning or uncomfortable mouth.

Gum problems.

Bladder problems.

UTIs.

Vaginal dryness.

Painful sex.

Palpitations.

And more.

And just when you've got your head around one symptom, another one decides to turn up.

It's like your body has subscribed to Amazon Prime for symptoms.

Free next-day delivery.

And here's where the science comes in...

The ovaries produce hormones including oestrogen and progesterone, and their levels change dramatically during the menopausal transition.

Oestrogen isn't just about reproduction.

It interacts with the brain and affects systems involved in things like mood, memory, sleep and temperature regulation.

So when those hormone levels fluctuate and eventually fall, the brain doesn't simply shrug its shoulders and say:

"Oh well, carry on then."

It has to adapt.

Research is increasingly showing that menopause is associated with changes in brain function and structure, including areas involved in memory and executive function.

Which might explain why you can walk into a room and completely forget why you're there.

You can know someone's name perfectly well…

…but their name has apparently been removed from your brain's database.

You can be halfway through a sentence and suddenly think:

"What the actual fuck was I talking about?"

And then there's the exhaustion.

Because sleep can be disrupted by night sweats, hot flushes, anxiety and hormonal changes.

So you don't sleep properly.

Then you're tired.

Then you're less resilient.

Then something tiny happens and suddenly you are disproportionately irritated by someone breathing too loudly.

And then you wonder why you're so bloody irritable.

It's a vicious little circle.

The NHS actually recognises that poor sleep and tiredness can make mood, irritability, stress and anxiety worse.

So if a woman says:

"I don't feel like myself."

Please don't dismiss it.

She may genuinely not feel like herself.

Now let's talk about the men...

Right, gentlemen, this is the bit where I’m going to mansplain menopause.

And before anyone gets offended, I'm doing this with love.

Because I genuinely think one of the reasons men sometimes struggle to understand what women are going through is because you haven't got the same bloody biology.

And actually, that's not an insult.

It's science.

Men and women don't have identical hormonal systems, and we don't experience ageing and reproductive hormones in exactly the same way.

Women going through perimenopause and menopause can experience some pretty dramatic fluctuations in ovarian hormones, particularly oestrogen and progesterone. These hormones don't just have a job in reproduction either. They interact with the brain and with systems involved in mood, sleep, memory, temperature regulation and lots of other bodily functions.

So while you're looking at us thinking:

"She's gone a bit moody."

We're potentially experiencing a full-scale internal software update with absolutely no warning, no instruction manual and apparently no option to click 'remind me tomorrow'.

Men have hormones too, obviously.

Testosterone changes with age and fluctuates throughout the day, and men's brains are influenced by plenty of hormones and neurotransmitters too.

But men don't go through the same ovarian hormonal transition that women do during menopause.

And I think this is where things can get a little interesting.

Because sometimes a man will look at a woman and think:

"But you were fine yesterday."

Yes.

I was.

Yesterday I had different chemistry.

Today my brain has apparently held an emergency meeting without inviting me.

And this is where I'm going to challenge another bit of popular nonsense.

You may have heard that women use both sides of their brains while men supposedly use the left side, which is why women can multitask and men can apparently stare directly at a cupboard and still not see the thing they're looking for.

I'm afraid that's not actually how the brain works.

Sorry, ladies.

Sorry, gentlemen.

The brain is much more complicated than that.

We all use interconnected networks across both sides of the brain.

So when a man says:

"I'm thinking about nothing."

He might genuinely be thinking about nothing.

And honestly?

I'm jealous.

Because my brain appears to have 47 tabs open, three are playing music, one is frozen and I have absolutely no idea where the noise is coming from.

Meanwhile, he can apparently sit on the sofa watching television with the mental equivalent of a freshly painted white wall.

Nothing.

And I ask:

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nope."

"How can you be thinking about nothing?"

"I just am."

And perhaps, scientifically speaking, he actually is.

Which is bloody annoying.

Because when you ask a woman:

"What are you thinking about?"

we might genuinely have no idea how to answer.

Not because we're being secretive.

Not because we're being dramatic.

But because sometimes there are so many thoughts, feelings, sensations, worries, memories and bits of random information flying around that trying to explain what's happening inside our heads is like trying to describe the contents of a handbag after it's been thrown down the stairs.

Everything is in there.

You just don't know where.

And that is why I think we need to stop trying to understand each other by assuming:

"If I wouldn't react like that, why are you reacting like that?"

Because you're not me.

And I'm not you.

Our biology isn't identical.

Our hormonal experiences aren't identical.

Our brains aren't identical.

But here's the really important bit:

We don't have to completely understand each other to be kind to each other.

You don't have to know exactly what a hot flush feels like.

You don't have to understand why someone can go from laughing to crying.

You don't have to understand why she has forgotten what she walked into the kitchen for.

And you definitely don't need to understand why she has suddenly developed an irrational hatred of the noise you're making while chewing.

Just don't make it worse.

Listen.

Ask what she needs.

Give her some space if she wants it.

Give her a cuddle if she wants one.

Make the bloody tea.

And if she says:

"I don't know what's wrong."

Don't immediately reply:

"Well, why don't you know whats wrong with you then?"

Because sometimes she genuinely doesn't know.

And if you're really lucky, she'll eventually work it out.

And if you're a man reading this and thinking:

"Bloody hell, this menopause sounds complicated."

Yes.

Yes, it bloody is.

And the fact that you don't fully understand it isn't the problem.

Not trying to understand it is.

Because perhaps we will never completely understand how it feels to live inside each other's bodies.

But we can learn a little neuroscience.

We can learn a little biology.

We can listen.

We can stop dismissing women as moody, emotional, difficult or mad.

And we can remember that sometimes when she says:

"I don't feel like myself."

The best response isn't to fix her.

It's simply:

"Okay. I'm here."

And perhaps make the tea.

Because frankly, at this point in life, tea is basically medical intervention.

And yes, sometimes I really don't know what's wrong either.

This is probably one of the hardest things to explain.

Someone might ask:

"What's wrong?"

And I genuinely don't know.

"Are you upset?"

No.

"Are you angry?"

No.

"Are you depressed?"

No.

"Then what's wrong?"

I DON'T KNOW.

I just know I don't feel right.

Sometimes the words aren't there.

Sometimes the thoughts are all tangled up.

Sometimes there are too many thoughts.

Sometimes there are none.

And sometimes I simply don't have the energy to investigate my own emotional state because I'm too bloody tired.

That doesn't mean I'm being difficult.

It doesn't mean I'm crazy.

It doesn't mean I've stopped caring.

It might simply mean my brain and body are dealing with a huge biological transition.

And here's what I want men, partners, children, friends and anyone else watching from the outside to understand...

You don't have to fix it.

Honestly.

Please stop trying to fix it.

You can't make the hot flush disappear by saying:

"You're hot?"

You can't repair brain fog by saying:

"You were fine yesterday."

You can't make exhaustion disappear by saying:

"You need to get more sleep."

And you definitely can't improve someone's mood by telling them to:

"Just get a grip."

Because if getting a grip worked, I promise you we'd all be gripping ourselves into oblivion.

Sometimes the most helpful thing you can do is simply say:

"Okay. I'm here."

Make the tea.

Give her a hug.

Don't take everything personally.

Don't demand an explanation she can't give you.

Don't tell her she's being irrational.

Don't tell her she's mad.

Don't tell her she's miserable.

And don't assume that because she was perfectly fine on Tuesday, she should be perfectly fine on Friday.

Because menopause isn't necessarily consistent.

Symptoms can change.

Hormone levels fluctuate.

Sleep changes.

Stress changes.

Your ability to cope changes.

And sometimes the woman you get on Tuesday isn't quite the woman you get on Friday.

And she may be just as confused about that as you are.

So, to the woman who says...

"I don't feel like myself."

I hear you.

To the woman who sits quietly because she has nothing left to say:

You're not failing.

To the woman who cancels plans because the thought of getting dressed and being sociable feels like climbing Everest:

You're not lazy.

To the woman who forgets what she was saying halfway through a sentence:

You're not stupid.

To the woman who suddenly cries, gets angry, then wonders why the hell she reacted like that:

You're not crazy.

And to the woman who sometimes thinks:

"I just can't be arsed."

Welcome to the club.

Membership apparently comes with hot flushes, insomnia and a complimentary inability to remember why you walked into the kitchen.

And maybe that's what I really want people to understand.

Menopause isn't an excuse.

It's not a personality transplant.

It's not women "going mad."

It's a huge biological transition that can affect how we feel, think, sleep, function and cope.

The NHS says menopausal symptoms commonly last around 7 to 9 years, sometimes longer, and they can change during that time.

So perhaps we need a little less:

"What's wrong with you?"

And a little more:

"What do you need from me today?"

Sometimes the answer will be a cup of tea.

Sometimes it will be a hug.

Sometimes it will be:

"Leave me alone for half an hour before I accidentally kill someone."

And sometimes it will simply be:

"Nothing. I don't need anything. Just sit with me."

You don't have to understand exactly what we're going through.

You probably never completely will.

Just like we will never completely understand what it's like to experience life inside a male brain and male body.

But we can learn.

We can listen.

We can be kinder.

We can stop labelling women as moody, difficult, emotional or mad when there may be a whole biological storm happening underneath the surface.

Because sometimes the woman sitting quietly isn't angry with you.

She isn't depressed.

She isn't miserable.

She isn't being difficult.

She is simply exhausted.

Her brain is overloaded.

Her hormones are changing.

And she has absolutely, completely and utterly…

run out of fucks to give.

And actually?

That's okay.