On losing my superpower

This is me, about twelve years ago when I naturally produced collagen, had my shit together quite nicely thank you very much. My body didn’t ache, I could stay up until 11pm at night, sleep soundly, wake refreshed and get on with it. Happy times. Good days.

I look at Mums now with little babies in prams and think two things.

  1. Why are you so young?
  2. How can you do two things at once?

Doing more than one thing at a time used to be my superpower and sadly, along with my sex drive, my optimism, my tolerance of feckless politicians, my ability to produce and sustain a healthy hormonal balance and my occasional will to live, IT HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!

Like, fucking ran away and never looked back.

I look at that fresh-faced Mrs Woog up there and she could do many things at once. She could breastfeed a baby while bathing a toddler while speaking on the phone to a colleague, all the while as she tended to her bonsai tree. She would never get overwhelmed (fast forward about 6 years later when she joined Club Anxiety and the whole game changed) and was proficient in organisation, prioritising and delegation.

The loss of my superpower has been a gradual undertaking and one that I really have only recently formally recognised. I used to be able to write away and have a full conversation with a family member, an intelligent one including eye contact. It was if I was able to function on two operating platforms.

Nowdays, I am lucky enough to boot up at all. I actually start thinking about my second coffee as I make my first.

Do you know when you run into a mate who you have known for years and their name just totally escapes you? When you type a word you might have written a thousand times beforehand spend twenty minutes looking at it, questioning whether you have spelt it correctly? When you walk into Bunnings to get some fertiliser and come out with a maidenhair fern? When you get a text from a friend asking you if you are running late for coffee, but you are actually in your PJ’s with your head completely up your ass?

Its brain fog, a totally accepted symptom of peri-menopause. And I know because it is coming at me like a freight train.

But there are things you can do to offset it. Brain exercises. But that sounds like, to use a word from my offsprings’ vernacular, that sounds like a “trek”. Which is another form of exercise that I will try to avoid.

Collagen, reasonable mood levels and cognitive function WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?

How is your mind behaving? Sharp as a tack?