I feel broken.
I know the word “broken” can be a trigger for many. “We are all perfectly imperfect”, I know. I mean my frontal lobe knows. Yet, right now, in my life, I feel broken. That’s the truth bomb du jour.
I share this not for pity, sympathy, or the like. I share it just in case you feel broken too – at this point in your life. Sure, I could use gentler terms like “unsettled” or “not quite myself,” but that’s not how I feel. Sometimes, “broken” is the word that fits. And that’s perfectly alright.
The Need To Control:
Now, I know it’s tempting to play detective and search for the exact reasons why we’re feeling this way. Trust me, I’ve been there. I am there. But sometimes, life throws us a curveball and there’s no clear culprit. No big move, no heartbreak, no health scare, no recent deaths. It’s like trying to find the missing puzzle piece that fell into another dimension. It’s maddening. As a matter of fact, the harder I work at looking for the reasons – heck, even a reason – the more confused I become.
When asked why I started Kuel Life I usually tell my hellish menopause transition tale. For those of you not in the know, menopause ran me over like a freight train. It came with a 30-pound weight gain, hot flashes, dysregulation of emotions, vertigo, brain fog, and tons more. I was a gem of a human, NOT.
Menopause Broke Me:
“It took me years to unravel the mystery of menopause for myself.”
It took me years to unravel the mystery of menopause for myself. Years and a myriad of failed attempts. You name it, I probably tried it. Until I finally reached some new level of mental and physical health. For me the answer was BHRT.
The first year and a half after beginning BHRT, I watched the pounds melt away, the hot flashes stopped, and my brain returned, not to mention my libido. I was winning midlife and beyond. Thrilled I had figured it out for myself. Now all that was left was to live the remainder of my time as kuelly as I wanted. After all, I solved the mystery. I won the battle against menopause.
When will I learn that life is evergreen? That we are ever-changing. Just because we solve an immediate, very crucial, issue today doesn’t mean it’s solved forever. Maybe most people get this and aren’t thwarted or surprised to find that moment in time when whatever it is that WAS working – stops working. It just seems really unfair to have to go back and rework. Who doesn’t hate rework?
Changes Keep Occurring:
Can we call it rework? I mean truly? If I can find a moment of kindness in this state, it’s to remind myself that I keep changing as time passes. My physiology continues to mature and like it or not, decline, thereby requiring intervention. It may feel like rework to me. I did manage to solve my personal riddle of the menopause sphynx years ago but apparently, it’s time to go back to the drawing board.
Now, I won’t sugarcoat it. Feeling broken isn’t a walk in the park. It’s more like navigating a maze blindfolded, arms flailing, hoping to stumble upon the exit. And I am reminded by the people in my life, that it’s okay to ask for help. Because chances are, someone’s been through a similar maze and can offer you a guiding hand.
If You Need To Hear This:
“seeking help isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a testament to our strength”
And maybe you need to hear this as much as I do: seeking help isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a testament to our strength. It’s like knowing when to call in a car mechanic for a tricky engine issue. We don’t expect ourselves to have all the answers about the workings of our vehicles, so maybe we should cut ourselves some slack when it comes to the complexity which is our human body.
In the midst of feeling broken, it’s easy for me to forget the incredible strength that resides within me. I’ve weathered storms before, and clearly, I’ll do it again. Remembering this: feeling broken is not a permanent state. It’s a temporary chapter in the grand novel of life. And we hold the pen. We can write it with courage, vulnerability, and the unwavering belief that we are stronger than we think.
So, I’ll dust off that drawing board – again. I’ll sharpen my pencils, find my favorite pen, and get ready to sketch out the next chapter. And if I can do that, I know we all can. We have got this, and we are not alone. We’re all in the garage, tinkering with our engines, ready to hit the road again. Together, we’ll ride through any storm, because that’s what Kuel women do. And while right now I feel like a car on blocks in someone’s garage, I am confident I will find the next right solution for my mental and physical health.