ND Menopause Roulette (Feelings Entry) When will I have Clarity

ND Menopause Roulette (Feelings Entry)

Lately I keep thinking of myself as a roulette board — red and black, spinning, spinning, spinning — and every day my hormones place their bets on me like I’m a game they’re trying to win.

The wheel goes round.
The metal ball cracks against the wood — that sharp clap clap sound — bouncing, jumping,
ricocheting.
Will it land here?
Will it land there?
Will it drop me into myself or drop me out of myself?

When it lands on black, that’s the dip.
The surge.
The crash.
The moment my bottom drops out and I become an empty vessel, watching myself from the
outside.

When it lands on red, that’s the lift.
The radiance.
The version of me that feels like my full self again — present, alive, plugged back in.

But the truth is:
red or black, it’s all gambling.
A 50/50 guess.
A waste of time, a waste of energy, a waste of brain activity I never agreed to spend.

My hormones are gambling away my hours.
My clarity.
My focus.
My sense of who I am.

And maybe this wouldn’t feel so brutal for someone who isn’t ND —
someone whose brain doesn’t already run on twelve tabs, three weather systems,
and a constant hum of sensory logic.

But when you’re ND and menopausal, your days become a roulette table.
You’re red at 9am, black at 10am, red again at 11, black by lunch.
Sometimes the dips last days. (I sound dramatic but no sooner I have pattern it changes)
Sometimes it’s twenty versions of me in one afternoon.

And now that I’m supposed to be post menopausal — now that my levels say I should be
“through it” — it’s somehow worse.
Daily.
Random.
Unfair.

The wheel spins.
The ball cracks.
Red or black.
Up or down.
Full or empty.

And I’m just standing there, watching the jump, waiting to see which version of me I get next.

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