Post #23

Ann who? Anhedonia that’s who

The Crone Chaos Report · Case Status: Controlled Chaos · For the Record: This Was Not the Plan

I know it’s hard to imagine yours truly (me) lacking an opinion on things. Because as The Crone it’s my FUCKING job to feel and then RANT. As a perimenopausal woman stepping into menopause (I HOPE SOON), I live for venting because frankly NOBODY GIVES A SHIT about how I feel (except my Sister Crones and you guys) and this is caFUCKINGthartic! So to NOT have feelings is kind of alien to me.

So imagine my shock (actually there wasn’t much of anything, but it sounds more dramatic and as The Crone I owe you CHAOS and DRAMA!) when I woke up with a slowly trundling flat malaise. Not the usual, dread and fear of waking up and realizing, “I’m still fucking alive and this shit is real?!” but the weird ‘zombie-like memory of a life but not quite being able to pinpoint it and I don’t care,’ kind of feeling. I now had a bizarre Frankenbaby of feeling blue, nostalgic, numb and joyless all at the same time.

I mean seriously, I was WORRIED AS FUCK because I didn’t even want to rant. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my sagging, ugliness and thought, “ick, oh well.” THEN because I felt like I was failing myself the guilt kicked in, I TRIED to feel bothered instead of standing there like someone looking into my life from the outside. Like some cliché soul hanging around their deathbed! So I screamed, “COME THE FUCK ON!” Not a twinge. I absoFUCKINGlutely LOVE RANTING. But the thing that gives me great pleasure was simply not there. It had slid off and slinked down the drain like Tatter Cloak’s morning spoo. So I got into the CLEAN shower (stood under it, can’t beat a shower to wallow and make me feel good) and guess what. I didn’t feel the love. If I wasn’t so flat-lined I’d have been worried, so course I mentioned all this to Tatter Cloak (my sounding board) and he said straight off the bat, “babe this is Anhedonia, I read about it.”

“Ann who?” I reply. Anhedonia is the loss of joy (Greek- AN meaning without and HEDONE – pleasure) which is that odd feeling I’d been having. It wasn’t depression or anxiety (I know that beast TOO FUCKING WELL), it was lack of motivation for things I LIKE DOING. If I could get off my ass I’d have hugged Tatter Cloak for pointing this out (but I just couldn’t move for a while). It’s not a common side effect to perimenopause but the usual CRAP suspects are to blame, declining hormones their impact on feel-good neurotransmitter dopamine which regulates good mood and motivation. When estrogen drops it also follows suit, combined with lowering progesterone and its mood enhancing and calming effects, you get the Keyser Sözeing of your mental health.

So the good news here is that IF this feeling is associated with perimenopause, it can be fixed with some hormonal adjustment (so it’s not always a permanent issue). If not then there are other options for mental health support available. I spoke to my doctor and it turned out I wasn’t absorbing my estrogen patch so well, when I switched over to gel things improved. I still have issues with motivation, depressive feelings and malaise, but it’s much better. THANK FUCK FOR THAT.

Crone on the Throne