I have been reading a lot lately on how high-masking smart neurodivergent women just FALL THE FUCK APART during perimenopause because all of the coping mechanisms we've been using since puberty were built on a foundation of mostly reliable hormone levels, which, as it turns out, were pretty important for day-to-day functioning.

Seriously, just @ me next time.

The thing that has helped my fuzzy memory the most is writing EVERYTHING down. I have two different magnetic notebooks (the pages are edged with iron ink and can be removed and reorganized as needed); one for work, one for personal life. Lists and things written in an app or something just slide off my memory, I need the muscle memory of writing things down.

When I hit menopause, not only did my (previously excellent) memory fail me, but my emotions were all over the place - mostly angry. And I was having hot flashes in an overheated office, which did nothing to help.

It will calm down. Really.

I have to write down anything important, or else it's lost through the perimenopause sieve of my brain forever.

I need the muscle memory of writing things down.

This has always been and continues to be very important for me. I typically write everything down and then never look at the notes again. I am intrigued by these magnetic notebooks, though.

First of all fuck menopause and double fuck the patriarchy for VIRTUALLY NO RESEARCH INTO IT.

Second (preaching to the choir) grief is exhausting and nonsensical. I don’t want to do anything and everyone is annoying me (I’m being snappy) simultaneously I’d very much like to be around people doing something.

I feel you, msbelle. It sucks.

I am not yet in the perimenopause crew, but I have a composition book for at work and a very nice leather multi-notebook thingy for everything else. I imagine new-baby-brain is not dissimilar. Someday I hope to get a full night's sleep again.

Magnetic notebook! These things are like magic.

Grief, any type, is so weird and debilitating. A very old friend passed yesterday, and all of us who knew him are flailing. My life wouldn't be what it is today if I hadn't met him.

At work I've taken to keeping a daily to do list in word open at all times. It is saved by the date, I update it frequently marking things out and making progress notes. Each morning yesterday’s gets copied to a blank doc and all things completely marked out are deleted. Then it’s saved as the new date. I think I have 4-5 months of these now.

I have been reading a lot lately on how high-masking smart neurodivergent women just FALL THE FUCK APART during perimenopause because all of the coping mechanisms we've been using since puberty were built on a foundation of mostly reliable hormone levels, which, as it turns out, were pretty important for day-to-day functioning.

Seriously, just @ me next time.

Right? Perimen sucks and it's getting worse. The night sweats are awful. It's really more like night dampness before dawn but I rarely get back to sleep in good time.

(preaching to the choir) grief is exhausting and nonsensical.

And goes on.