I’ve been peeping behind the curtain of writing these blog posts again. I’ve toyed with the idea of starting a whole new page where I’m completely anonymous but I spent so long building this little blog, it seemed wrong to abandon it. Just because I’ve changed, it doesn’t mean that my blog can’t.
Instead, I’ve decided that, for now, I want to keep the posts off of social media and keep to my WordPress page, where it all began and maybe my website, although I’m thinking of letting that go as it’s an extra expense I don’t really need, we’ll see!
It’s been 6 months since I published a post. After choosing to write for a living as a copywriter, by the time it came to writing for this page, I couldn’t seem to take my copywriting hat off and what was once a fun hobby that I loved, became a chore. I still wanted to write but just couldn’t summon up the oomph to do it.
I would re-read old posts when they came up on my memories and think how different my life was a few years ago. It seemed so full and my world so big compared to now, but it feels like another lifetime and more often than not another person.
I know I have changed, I’m just trying to work out if it’s for the better or not. I certainly couldn’t drink the way I used to — that was out of control. But I think that party girl version of me became part of my identity, and now that I don’t — and quite honestly can’t — drink like that anymore, I feel a bit lost.
It’s not just my job and the drinking that’s changed, my friendship circle is now a lot smaller than it was. I was always very good at staying in touch with people, checking in and arranging catch ups. I’m not entirely sure what has happened to me to be honest, but for a while I just didn’t have the energy or strength to do those things for a while and I found that some friendships kind of withered and died when I was no longer doing those things.
I’m not really blaming anyone for this but as one friend pointed out, it’s not my sole responsibility to keep those friendships alive. If I’m honest, it left me feeling that I was no longer fun, therefore no longer needed and it stung, I don’t even know if it’s true because I have been all over the place emotionally and can tell myself all sorts of things that might not be true, who knows.
On a positive note, the friends that have been there through these past few years are now stronger than ever. They have been understanding when I have been honest about how I feel about going out and been flaky about making plans because I never know how I’m going to be feeling. Some friends I see regularly and some I only see once or twice a year but I’m so grateful for each and every one of them for checking in and being there when I needed them and not forgetting about me 😂
Perimenopause is obviously still the main character in my life 🙄 but I’m still working hard on getting back to me, but I’m having to accept that “me” doesn’t look the same and that is the really difficult part.
A good friend of mine has written a book and she has asked me to read her unpublished manuscript. I am about halfway through and I am super proud of her, I find her so inspiring she’s gone for what she’s wanted in life and followed her passion but I’m also very envious, she has found her place in life, her thing, her passion and I’m still her floundering around at 44 wondering who the fuck I am?
How do I even begin to find this out? Most days I live in a state of fear and anxiety, with the odd good day where I feel like I could take on the world — but by the time I’ve gathered the strength to do it, the feeling’s gone. and I’m back to wanting to hide under the duvet.
As I say, I’m working really hard on this, I’m still doing talk therapy and I’ve even had an EMDR session with my therapist which was AMAZING so we are going to do more of those, I’ve seen a menopause specialist and tweaked my hormones, I’ve started Mounjaro and lost just over 2 stone in just under 6 months and been tracking every aspect of my life to see if I can spot areas for improvement.
I’m showing up for myself more than I ever have and it’s fucking exhausting but if I don’t I’m scared that I will get swallowed up in the gaping hole of self pity and depression and I don’t want to even visit there let alone live there.
So that’s why I’m back, this is for me, this is still me!
