Welcome to midlife: Nobody knows what the fuck is going on

I was personally quite excited to reach midlife.

Sports cars and bad decisions.. sign me up.. I always wanted a flash car.

I didn’t have the same existential crisis that my friends did when we all turned 40.

No, I waited a full two years to have a full personality transplant instead.

To lose so many parts of me, that it has me wondering.. if I lose anymore, will I still resemble a human being?

I’ve never been so blindsided by a period of my life before. We all change, we grow, lose people and evolve. We want different things all the time. But to have your entire world shift, to have your internal system seemingly reboot without your consent.. oh, that really is fucking something.

So, if you’ve ever wondered how it feels to live inside the mind of a women, hurtling through midlife, don’t worry I’ve got you covered.

Here are my favourite gifts so far 🥰

You’re welcome.

One: Brain function has left the chat

Walking into a room and forgetting what you went in there for.. amateur hour.

I forgot the word for cheese the other day. Imagine that, the thing I love more than most humans, the things that’s lived in my fridge (and mouth) for forty years.. just gone.

I’m standing there clicking my fingers playing solo charades while everyone else, is pissing themselves.

‘That yellow thing, oh my god, goes on top of spag bol..’

And while everyone’s laughing, I get hit with this rage. Because why am I the only one, who doesn’t find this funny? This isn’t even the first time. It’s happened enough times in fact, that I’m debating contacting the nursing home to tell them, it’s probably time to start stitching my name into a cardigan.

Apparently, it’s normal.

And this, is what annoys me the most.

Because to fucking whom?

None of this feels normal.

To open my phone, start writing a message and then have my brain, quite literally leave the chat, isn’t normal. To start a conversation and finish it with ‘ah.. don’t worry’ because the words have literally left and it’s too embarrassing to admit AGAIN, isn’t normal. To have to recite ‘I’m going to get a charger’ every time i walk up the stairs over and over because otherwise, I’ll be searching for that mysterious ‘something’ for the next six months, isn’t normal.

Is it hormones? Or am I mentally unwell?

The soundtrack to my entire life, on repeat.

Two: I fucking hate myself so that’s nice

I’ve always been pretty good at this bit. Body positive, even after kids, even when things changed (three stone to be exact) and I ended up resembling a completely different human, I was still able to summon up some self love and compassion.

Now? I catch my reflection and the first thing that comes into my mind is just how disgusting I am.

My body has changed and that part is real. To have that happen, completely out to your control.. I can’t even pretend it doesn’t suck. Clothes don’t fit and nothing I do seems to touch it. And, I do A LOT. I could live on lettuce and run marathons and I’d be rewarded with a bless you, nice try.

But it’s not even the body, if I’m honest.. it’s the voice that accompanies it.

Because who invited this bitch and why does she hate me so much?

Some days I have to work real hard to even like myself and I just don’t have the energy.

So that’s fun.

Three: You’re all intolerable

People, I’ve adored for years now have suddenly become really intolerable.

And my face will absolutely relay that whenever it feels like it.

I’ve lost count of the amount of times my boyfriends asked ‘what’s with the face’ and it’s always the same one.. disgust.

All the nice, all the soft, all the making sure everyone is comfortable.. has been switched off at the mains and what’s left is just me.

The me, who doesn’t care whether people know how I feel. Who doesn’t care to pretend or soften the blow. The me, who can sit in a conversation she’s not enjoying and simply, just say that, out loud.. with her entire being.

As it turns out, the new me, is too tired for anyone’s shit and also, she might be a bit of a bitch.

I used to be so good at this. The one everyone wanted at the party. Now, I can walk in somewhere and instantly start planning my exit.

After a lifetime of always being the one to make others feel good, I can’t lie.. this one actually feels quite good. Empowering even.

But also, if I have any friends left my Christmas.. I’ll be surprised.

Four: I don’t care but also I really care

I didn’t realise it was possible to care about everything but nothing at the same time.

But, turns out, I live in contradictions now.

I fluctuate between giving zero fucks and giving all of them.

And, on any given day, nobody knows which one of me is turning up.. least of all me.

So everyone is kept firmly on their toes.

Some days, I don’t want to see anyone, get dressed, go out or make small talk. But others, I’d happily be carried around in a baby sling and thrown sporadic head pats. I want to be left alone and desperately looked after, sometimes within the same hour.

And I didn’t really think that was a thing.

But I’ve stopped trying to pick a lane with this one.. I’m just waiting for the sling to arrive.

Five: Murder in the bedroom

Unless my pillows have developed murderous feelings overnight.. I’m pretty sure I’m safe when I wake up in the morning. So could someone tell me why exactly, this state of panic exists?

Because some mornings, I wake up like an hour into the action film.. we’re already mid fight scene and I’ve no idea how I got here.

My mind’s calm but my heart is pounding. Which can only mean one thing.. heart attack.

Cue another health anxiety induced spiral.

Supplements have become my emotional support tablets and if someone told me rubbing hummus behind the ears, would help.. I’d probably give it a go. Because I cannot with this one.

Six: Motivation, huh?

I can go from feral, unstoppable motivation to full sloth mode, in the space of about four minutes.

It’s either energy, attention span, crippling headaches or general not caring but something will always take me out at the knees.

And there’s no warning or build up. One minute I’m deep cleaning the kitchen cupboards, colour coding the spice rack, questioning how I even lived like such a slob. The next, I’m horizontal, incapable of forming a sentence and wondering if I’ve been drugged.

I used to be someone who finished things. Now, I’m someone who starts everything spectacularly and then loses all interest.

There’s a reason women talk so much about this stage of life. It’s really not for the weak.

And can I just say one thing? Amongst all the forgetting, the hating, the general hard work of just being a functioning person right now, at a time where I might add, you have less energy than ever before (I mean solid work human nature.. like truly, take a bow), there is something else that exists.

And, I’m not saying that because I’m incapable of just letting bad things be bad without finding a silver lining (I am, fully incapable of that). I’m saying it because it’s true.

I’ve been stripped of caring what people think. Stripped of the ability to be embarrassed. Stripped of the performance, I didn’t even know I was part of, until it stopped.

And without all of that, there’s this kind of rawness. This real, unfiltered, version of me that if I’m honest, I’ve been trying to find my entire adult life.

So yeah, it sucks.

Oh my god, it sucks.

I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know what I want anymore. And yes, I’m a little scared of who’s going to turn up this time next year.

BUT I’m also kind of open to it.

To whatever chooses to come next.

To not knowing and not needing to know and just letting that be alright.

So as much as I feel like I’m fighting for my life right now, I’m also trying really hard not to fight for it. To just let it unfold, in whatever way nature, decides it should do. The forgetting, the rage, the whole entire shit show.

Because, let’s be honest.. what other choice do I have?!