A Sick Little Dip - Menopausal Edition

A Sick Little Dip (Menopausal Edition)

Today is one of those cyclical dips — the kind that arrives quietly, like a soft fog rolling in behind my eyes. Not dramatic. Not chaotic. Just a menopausal deflation. (It’s like I could see it in my gym bag packing this morning — but I didn’t physically feel it until it happened.)

I sat with my Marimekko cup, the fabulous black & white one, the one that makes me feel like I’ve made some effort sat on my back door step (inhaling the little sun) no spark.

I even did makeup, not giving me its usual sparkle lift. I even spun around the kitchen trying to shake a dopamine hit loose, disco balls and rainbows but still the nothingness, as if I could jump‑start my own brain.

But the battery stayed flat.

This is the strange part of menopause no one talks about — the reverse of chaos. Not the whirlwind. Not the storm. Not the ricochet.

Just the quiet slump where:

my planning order dissolves my ND wiring wants movement my menopausal wiring says “no lift available” and even my chaos can’t be bothered to show up

My words are working today — beautifully, actually — but the engine behind them is idling.

No spark. No storm. Just deflation.

LETS DO ONE THING AT A TIME I'M FUNCTIONING BARELY

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