I just shut down.

My Name and Age

Anon 55

My MenoJourney Story

My heart aches as I pour out these words! I’m 55 now, having weathered the storm of perimenopause’s cruel physical and emotional tempests, and only now do I see the wreckage left behind. For years, I raised my three children, mostly alone, after my husband—it stings to say—abandoned us for a younger flame 15 years ago. I threw myself into my career in PR, straight out of school, and no one could ever accuse me of crumbling under life’s relentless blows. My mother, a towering figure at 96, an indomitable nurse, swore HRT casued cancer, so I never dared consider it. When perimenopause descended, I soldiered on, stubborn and unyielding. I struggled but it was somehow bearable.

But then, seemingly overnight, I was crippled with anxiety. I was drowning in emotional chaos, my heart racing, my spirit shattered. I couldn’t cope—not at all. I shut out everyone except my dear children, my only lifeline. My youngest, bless her, was taking her GCSEs during those bleakest days, and I, in my despair, pushed away a wonderful man who had brought light to my life for a year. I simply couldn’t deal with it all. I didn't have the band width.

My friends, those beautiful souls who once filled my life with laughter and love, I shoved them aside. I’d accept their warm invitations, only to cower at the last moment, offering the most foolish, shameful excuses. Time and again, I let them down, and now — I could weep for the embarrassment! Why didn’t I just open my home, my heart, to my girlfriends and confess what I was going through? We used to have the wildest girls’ nights, even through the darkest days of lockdown—secret, rebellious gatherings in a friend’s hidden garden, sipping wine and calling them our “therapy sessions.” Those memories now feel like a lost paradise.

It wasn’t until a chance encounter in the supermarket that the depth of my isolation struck me. There she was, one of my dearest old friends, and my heart leapt when I saw her. But her cold “Oh, Hi” and swift retreat left me reeling, as if the ground had vanished beneath me. Desperate, I chased after her, only to hear her say, with a sting that still echoes, that she “could take a hint.” I felt as though I’d been slapped. I didn't have the breath to reply. She was right—how could I argue? I’d been so unkind, so distant, for years. Who could endure such neglect? I denied them the chance to be there for me, and worse, I wasn’t there for them. I know nothing of their lives now, and my life is diminished as a result. My only companions are a handful of old school friends I see so rarely, and my life feels so much smaller, so much sadder, for it.

I will try, with all my heart, to rebuild those bridges, but, the apologies I tremble at the thought.

I have now begun HRT. Largely as a result of a terrible row with my oldest daughter who told me that I needed to get help. I feel very fortunate that she was able to get through to me and that my GP was recptive and up to date with current medical guidelines - unlike my mother. My emotions are now much more stable thankfully. Had I started it sooner I coud have saved myself so much turmoil and kept my friends.

My Symptoms

Anxiety and depression

What Worked

Products or Advice That Worked

HRT

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What Didn't Work - Beware

Products or Advice that DIDN'T work

Trying to cope alone.

I wish I'd known....

Please, don’t make my mistake—don’t push away those who love you. Cry out for help. Only the coldest heart would turn away from a friend in need, and surely, you’d never call such a person a friend.