Memory Is a Double-Edged Sword

I'm sorry you're experiencing this, I can't imagine how it would feel if it were happening to me. As a refugee constantly "far far away from home," whatever that even means anymore, I've always pictured myself as basically a bundle of memories hurtling forward through time, rich and fantastic interiority but much more fragile exterior relations, if that makes sense. I don't know how I would cope. I'm glad that there's been some reprieve and that you at least recognize the outlines of what's happened. But wow.

Perimenopause is such a weird and awful time, and no one warns you about any of it. I had a medical crisis around this time last year that sent me to a gynecologist who sat me down and explained (with charts and visual aides) the weird chess game between all the different hormones and what their effects are, and what happens when one of them starts to wobble, and then another. I ended up in emergency surgery, which fixed the immediate issue, but then said doctor retired so I've been just waiting and hoping to finish passing through this boundary condition before it happens again. Sorry, TMI. Point is: nobody tells us shit, and it would have been nice to know before my whole world flipped upside down and I thought I was going to die. :/

You're a good egg, K, and I am so glad to know you're writing about yourself again, I'm just sorry it was prompted by awfulness :(