But in your thirties / early forties, nobody tells you there's this stage which happens between fertility and non fertility, as it were. This bit in the middle where things start to change. So things change and you start to seek an explanation. You talk to friends about bits and pieces, you read the internet, and eventually, finally, it dawns on you that these body changes aren't your fault, that you're not messing up, that you're not dying of some outlandish illness, and for some of them, there's a chance you can do something about them. You also realise you could have it a lot worse. There's a veritable smorgasbord of options you can select for how your perimenopause is going to hit you today or next week.
So, I got a massive bad dose of the jittery hormones and a dose of unwanted body fat as part of the gift aging gave to me. And decided I could no longer be a passive passenger of my body at this point. I was going to seek help. And I sought help. I put aside my usual conventional approaches and booked in at the Alternative Health clinic. Wincing a little bit as I did so. And a month or so later, things are normalising - in the way I want normal to be, not in the way my body had decided for me. A month of fasted pre breakfast exercise washed down with a prescribed amount of smoothie which is all the food I get until lunch and I have energy back, the want to get out and do something with myself has returned. My old shape has started to return, my waist has definition and my waistband is not obscured by a somewhat alarming roll of belly fat. Starflower and Agnus Castus and I seem to have levelled out, mood wise, hell, sometimes I even feel quite smiley!
Still, I wonder why nobody warned me ...
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