I have lost my ability to want to make love with my husband of 20 years.  He waits, he encourages me, he tries to understand the vagueness that has enveloped me.  I want to feel sexual, I truly miss feeling that way.  But, somehow, it has been taken from me.  I didn’t willingly give it up.  I didn’t decide, on my own, that I no longer needed it to be a part of me.  Sexuality to me now is just a word that describes who I used to me, something that used to course through my veins.  But now, that part of me lies silent and dark.  I hear it will come back.  Then, I hear it won’t.  The most confusing thing is that it’s very difficult to want something back that you no longer have an interest in.  How do you miss something that is no longer a part of the definition of the woman you are now? 

 I have read books that advise me to embrace this new me.  They tell me that it is a personal journey to eventual greatness.  I am told that it will elevate me to my proper place of personal power.  I need to honor it.  I need to embrace it.  I need to accept it.  I need to look deep inside of menopause and out of the smoke and ashes of a body that no longer feels like it belongs to me, be able to see the Great Phoenix rising out of the fire.  I hope that is true.  It seems to ring true.  Almost as if I have been through this before (believing in reincarnation as I do).  It seems to be the only thread of hope I can hold onto some days.  In the meantime, I want to believe in something that makes some sense of the confusion and abandonment I feel.

   Yes, abandonment.  I  feel like the mind, body and spirit I have been working on this entire lifetime have left me.  I have no idea why.  It just did.  And, I know that I shall never again find the original “me” that I used to know and love.  I don’t know this new person I am becoming.  I’m not comfortable with her.  I don’t trust her.  I don’t have any history with her.  I can’t communicate with her.  I have no memories with her.  I can’t depend on her.  I don’t understand her and what’s more, I’m afraid that if I ever do connect with her, I might not like her.  I’m too old to be making new friends, especially with myself.  Why can’t I just be who I was?  Because the “me” I used to me is no longer needed.

 Western medical doctors can explain the physical definition of what’s going on.  It’s really very clinical.  That doesn’t, however, explain why it is happening from a logical standpoint.  The body stops produces regular periods, the hormones that once ruled my life and defined my every waking thought process, are no longer being produced.  So, now I have been transformed into a woman who never knows from one day to next if a period will come or not.  Just when you get your hopes up that it’s finally over and will never rear it’s ugly head again, surprise.....in the middle of the night...you hear off  in the distance in the back of your mind a subtle voice whisper to you and say “Surprise...I was just kidding”!

 I am now a woman who forgets what she was going to do somewhere between the kitchen and the bathroom and what’s worse, I don’t even care.  I can transform myself from an almost giddy demeanor to one of the wicked witch of the west with amazing speed and agility and yet, I find it difficult to gracefully walk across a room without suddenly feeling dizzy and totally spacey.  Long gone are the nights when I can sleep straight through until the alarm blasts me out of bed...now I am up in the middle of the night, taking a cold shower when everyone else in my house is warm inside their dreams while I try to decide if it’s even worth it to go back to bed because even if I get lucky enough to stop having the multitude of hot flashes that seize my body almost nightly, do I really want to fall asleep and have the hideous nightmares I can count on regularly?

 I have tried to take the advice of my doctors and bravely decided to begin taking Hormone Replacement Therapy; a not so comfortable alternative in my case.  I was warned that I would have to take both estrogen and progesterone to prevent breast cancer that “might” occur from taking the HRT medications.  That was a real secure beginning to what, I’m sure my doctor was expecting to be a regular routine of office visits and medical tests.  I felt great on the drugs for about 2 days.  Suddenly, I felt 18 again.  Hey, this could work.  Thank God for modern medicine.  Well, after the false euphoria wore off, so did the 18 year old feelings.  Against my better judgment, but wanting to give it a fair try, I stayed on the HRT meds for 3 months.  All of the old symptoms, hot flashes, night sweats, nightmares, rollercoaster mood swings had all come back, worse than ever.  The answer is “quite simple” said my doctor.  Let’s increase the amount of testosterone you are taking.  That should do it”.  So, I agreed.  Pass it off as faith in the medical profession.  Still there was a small voice inside that warned against this measure.  After taking the new prescription for about 3 weeks, all I was feeling was foolish.  Everytime I took a pill, I knew, that for me anyway, it was wrong.  My symptoms never got better.

 So, the next trail I followed was to leave western medicine in the dust and began a natural approach to HRT.  I found some excellent herbal tinctures that worked fine.  I was beginning to feel hopeful again and my overall health was getting better.  Still, no sex drive.  Well, let’s start reading up on herbs and their qualities and make some bigger decisions.  This is when I discovered Chinese herbs.  I am now taking 3 different formulas and in getting to know my herbalist I have been told more about my body and how it works than all the doctors I have ever seen in my life.  The night sweats and hot flashes are few and far between now and the moodswings are getting much better.  Still, no sex drive, but that is the next obstacle I am going to tackle.

 I could turn this story into a lecture of what herbs to take (Western and Chinese) and what each one did.  I think not.  I can suggest a good book on the subject and suggest that you contact the herbalist I have come to know and trust, but the purpose of this story was to connect with other women who have the same feelings of being lost, being empty, being abandoned by our own bodies.  Look at all the things that will never be again...no longer able to have children, my one son is 19 and will be on his own soon and my role as his mother has changed and will never return to my being the most important woman in his life.  That’s natural and I understand it, but it leaves me feeling like I just lost the most important role of my life.  No more Band-Aids and nights of walking the floor knowing that the safety of my arms was more powerful than any croup or fever. 

 I have accomplished 20 years of being dedicated and in love with one man.  I have been blessed to have this same man love me in return.  And now, he has to follow along with me on this, the most difficult journey I have ever been on...the journey to find my identity again.  I know it won’t be the original identity that I carried for most of my life.  This identity has no boundaries, no hints of what the outcome will be.  I am hoping for the best, I am projecting the best, but I am not as patient as I once was.  I know the thief that came in the night and stole my original identity...it goes by the name of menopause.  This thief can not be reasoned with.  It cannot be bargained with.   It cannot be convinced otherwise than being life-changing. 

 Women, most of their lives, spend every waking moment defending themselves against the rest of the world and spend most of their energy defining themselves; to others and to themselves.  During menopause, you find yourself making excuses for your actions (forgetting that you put the dog in the laudryroom instead of outside and the fact that you haven’t seen the cat for days!) and the phrase “I’m sorry” become part of your everyday vocabulary.  I’m sorry for everything.  Sorry for forgetting what I was just about to do, sorry that I had trouble keeping my balance while I walked across that perfectly flat floor, sorry that I actually DON’T want to talk to anyone of the phone, sorry that I have thoughts of getting in my car, driving until I run out of gas and starting a new life...any new life.  Sorry that a whole weekend will flash past me and I haven’t gotten off the couch more than a few necessary times.   Sorry that I feel sorry.  Sorry for having to apologize for the changes that effect me so dramatically and those around me that have always counted on me to “have it together”. 

 I miss “me”.  I was really something.  I could do eleven things all at once and never miss a beat.  I could shine like the brightest star and not even have to work at it. I could create life and bring it to fulfillment.  I could make love all night and not even be tired the next day...so looking forward to the next time my husband and I would entangle ourselves and be lost in lust.  Where did I go?  Will the old me ever meet the new me again?  Have I finished all my previous assignments and now have to find new ones all over again?  Is the rest of this lifetime going to be about me?  Do I get to be selfish and not feel badly for it?  Can I not return phonecalls from my friends and not be held responsible for being uncaring?  Can I spend an entire weekend on the couch and forget that I exist and not be thought of as a “middle-aged woman who is escaping from reality”?  WHAT IS MY NEW REALITY?

 Will I ever again see that beloved “come hither look” in my husband’s eyes and actually want to “come hither” again?  Will those fires ever burn brightly as they used to?  Will intimacy ever return to my life?  With a number of different drug dependencies I could have that spark back today, but at what hideous price? 

 You can conquer an enemy you can see.  You can look that enemy straight in the eyes and fight back.  You can intimidate, frighten, terrify or even ignore that kind of enemy.  But, this...this is an enemy that you cannot see, you cannot look face to face and rebel against.  It has no face.  It has no concept of defeat.  It has all the power.  It has all the time in the world. 

 I have never felt so alone in my life.  Alone with my memories.  Alone with my longings for a whole “me” again.  Alone with my guilt (unfounded, but still very real).  Alone with my fear that it will always be this way.  Alone with the multitude of questions and the horrible reality that there is no one there to ask them.  It just “is”.  That’s all.  It just “is”.

 continued.....