menopause – Jen Wielgus Journalism

Not intended as an ad/shameless plug — but I do love ‘47 and would totally welcome a blog sponsorship! 😉 I think a responsible sober sports fan makes a great brand ambassador out in the wild, don’t you?

It’s fun having my real birthday and sober birthday on the same day — of the month, not the actual date— because it gives me an extra excuse to treat myself.

Not that I need any excuse. I’m pretty spoiled, y’all, though like most humans, I sometimes get mired in the uncomfortable business of being human in a capitalist dystopia and lose sight of my big, beautiful and immensely privileged picture. I ignore the abundant gifts surrounding me and slip out of “an attitude of gratitude” into the scarcity mindset that consumer culture loves to perpetuate and exploit for profit. Shoot, look at the pic I chose to open this post!

If I haven’t mentioned it 70 times already — that’s my tally of sober months as of April 7, 2025 — quitting drinking absolutely opened the door to “building a life I don’t want to escape from,” but it did not totally stop me from self-medicating anxiety/depression/stress or stuffing my feelings with other obsessions/compulsions.

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I called out menopausal the other day.

I said “sick,” of course, because my supervisor isn’t even 30 yet, and if some of my elders look at me like I’m a freak when I try to describe what I’m going through, a kid sure ain’t gonna get it.

My favorite is when people go, “Oh, you’re too young to be going through menopause!” 🙄

To be accurate, it’s called peri-menopause, a kind of living purgatory where you ride the insane “change of life” roller coaster for 7-10 years while still needing to buy tampons. There’s no official age when it hits or boilerplate experience of the impact, although the list of possible symptoms will put hair on your che…sorry, I mean your chin.

So you can see why it’s just easier to say “sick.”

The way I have been feeling between the 18th and 26th days of every monthly cycle over the past year or so, perimenopause might as well be the bubonic plague.

There are days I feel so mentally scattered and emotionally unstable that I have no business putting myself in close proximity to other people, for fear of some “Temple of Doom” shit going down. Those people might be counted on to provide a reference for future job prospects!

Kaaleeemaaaaah! Good thing for y’all I’ve become a pescatarian in my old age! 👹

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