Is It A Perimenopause Day?

 Today is one of those days where I get to try and guess if I am actually angry or if it's perimenopause.  Do I actually want to throw away all the dishes that were left in the sink for me to wake up to, or is this just hormones?  Do I actually want to punch my man in the face, or is Aunt Flow in control right now?  Are my clients so infuriating that they make my blood boil, or is this a hot flash?  

And then once I decide which outcome it actually is, I get to decide if I actually care.  I usually answer no on that one.  

Now, don't get me wrong, I am happy that the conversation has moved away from 'Women are just hormonal and therefore delicate" to actually acknowledging the real issues, but sometimes I just don't wanna hear it.  Or talk about it. Or watch reels about it.  And I definitely don't wanna have to explain it to anyone.  

I know there are therapies out there to help with the menopause and perimenopause symptoms.  I know I could change my lifestyle, improve my diet, increase my exercise routine, reduce my stress levels, increase the amount of sunlight I receive each morning, create better sleep habits, and keep the bedroom cooler at night. I know I should limit caffeine intake, reduce my screen time, stay hydrated, but not too hydrated, eat more whole foods, increase the amount of magnesium, vitamin B, vitamin D, omega-3s, and calcium I take, reduce or cut out alcohol consumption, and do more breath work. On my never-ending to-do list, I have: increase my fibre intake, reduce sugar intake, meditate, avoid processed foods, eat small portions, analyse my bowel movements and journal about my fucking symptoms.  

I know all this. 

I am a woman and have therefore been handed multiple laundry lists of "You shoulds" since I was born.  In reality, that stupid list above is not just for perimenopause but good things for all of us to do at any stage of life, but apparently, women are just dumbfucks who didn't know any better.  But if I didn't have time, capacity, money or desire to fit those things into my life previously, why the fuck would I have time, capacity, money or desire now?  

My uterus is on a farewell tour, but forgot its set list.  Each month is another encore no one asked for.  I just want to be left alone while the roadies finish packing up and the Crimson Curse finally exits stage left.