We have more of your words and experiences to share. Thank you so much to all who send us their stories and who comment, and to all of you reading these pages and supporting the ongoing conversation.
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Here are two experiences shared by friends.
“When my mum was at her worst, I was at university. I suppose I should be grateful for that. It limited the number of times she went on the rampage. At least at me.
She would welcome me home and be really happy to see me, we’d all gather and have a lovely family meal etc. Maybe a trip out somewhere together. All would be fine.
And then bang! From nowhere, she would explode in fury.
She was a ticking time bomb. I tried to track what triggered each explosion, but it didn’t have a pattern. It could be anything. A jacket not hung up, a word someone used, a look on someone’s face, a programme on television. Nothing very important, and often she made up some crime, like I wasn’t grateful for the lunch she’d made.
Never mind creeping on eggshells, I tried not to creep on anything at all.
I tried to be invisible.
The signs were clear. There would be a tightness round her mouth. Her eyes would go hard. She would stand still and stare at me. Then she would start: criticising, using insults, accusing, belittling.
I tried reasoning with her, tried explaining what she might have misunderstood, tried to calm her down. It was pointless. She was fuelled on adrenalin and rage (and, I now know, chaotic hormones) and all I could do was wait it out.
I tried to stay out of her way once, disappear up to my room and lock the door.
She kicked the door in.
Once or twice I tried arguing back. That just led to violence.
None of this was my mum. Not the mum I knew and loved and had trusted all my life. This was a monster who seemed to hate me.
It wasn’t just me. She would turn on my dad, my brother and sister. No-one outside the family would have known. It was our nasty, horrible secret.
I stopped going home in the end.
After a couple of years my ‘normal’ mum returned. In a very British way we half talked about what had happened, half brushed it under the carpet. Our relationship totally got back on track and we became as close and loving as we had ever been. I know why she behaved the way she did. She couldn’t help it. I know she suffered as much as the rest of us. We’ve all moved on.
But those years were terrifying. I love my mum, but the words and the nastiness and the violence will never quite get out of my head.”
Kit, Oxford.
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“I have now read some of your blog entries. What you describe is horribly familiar. And yes - I am certainly in the throes (hoping dying embers…?) of the menopause too.
The hot flushes have always come with that now all-too-familiar ‘Here we go’ feeling as the warmth creeps up from a deep place within my central body and spreads slowly but excruciatingly surely up my neck and out over my entire head!
I have actually worn a jumper now for the first time in years - the freezing temperatures of recent weeks enticed me to give a much loved (and loose-necked) woolly a try - amazing - it was so cold that it didn’t even feel too bad when the inevitable flush started.
If I’m honest the flushes have slowed down and reduced in severity over recent months but I am not entirely rid of them yet. I’m 54.
My menopause story really started following a procedure which was to help with extremely heavy periods when I was about 40. One too many hideous and embarrassing leakages on planes, trains and automobiles had taken me to my GP as I was very nervous about going on an upcoming holiday.
He couldn’t have been more helpful which was wonderful. He realised very quickly that I was anaemic but a scan revealed it was nothing but a ‘healthy throbbing uterus’ following three children that was to blame! An endometrial ablation followed which ‘boiled away’ the lining of the uterus and I’ve never had a period since - marvellous!
But the question of whether I would ever know when I was in the menopausal phase did stick in my mind. I was reassured not to worry about it but if I started having unmanageable symptoms then to go back to my GP.
When the flushes were at their worst, I did seek advice from (a now different) GP, my previous one having retired. We discussed what was happening and had the HRT conversation. I certainly wasn’t keen and she said that if I could manage without, that was probably better all round. I resolved to ‘woman up’ and tough it out!
As I am writing right now, the sensation once again has started to grow from within - I am certainly not through this yet!
And so life goes on without medication and with a sympathetic husband who has also questioned why we have a summer (3.5tog) duvet on all year round!!! I throw a quilted bedspread across the bottom of our bed for emergency ‘bloody freezing’ nights and smile….
Apart from the flushes, I can only assume that the sleepless nights, emotional highs and lows and sometimes foggy brain are all part of it too. However, nothing I have experienced to date has made me want to return to a GP or seek medication.
Sharing stories and reading about what other women are going through have been very helpful in making me realise I’m not alone.”
Rachel, Kent.
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