Am I Crazy or Menopausal?
by Kristi Meisenbach Boylan
 My
first thoughts were that I was going crazy. I was sure of it. I remember
tearfully asking a close friend and neighbor if she would look out for my
children in the event that I had a total nervous breakdown. After all, what else
could possibly be causing the sudden and unexpected onset of memory lapses,
anxiety, depression, night sweats, and phobia attacks that had completely turned
my life upside down?
My initial visits with my internist had turned up nothing, further
convincing me that I was losing my mind. Knowing that I was under a great deal
of stress, this internist wrote me a prescription for Klonopin and referred me
to a psychiatrist. Thankfully, a friend intervened and reminded me of her own
difficult passage through menopause. And since my mother had been attributing my
nervousness to hormones, I agreed to see the endocrinologist that my friend had
recommended. Still, I was sure that at 36 I was much too young to be going
through the change. Much to my surprise, however, both my estrogen and
progesterone levels came back extremely low -- I was in menopause.
Angered by my internist's misdiagnosis of panic disorder, I armed myself with
every manual I could find on this mysterious mid-life passage, and there were
plenty. On the shelves of every library and bookstore were a dozen or so books
with the word menopause in their title. The anatomical texts, most of which were
written by well-meaning health care professionals, offered advice on lessening
the physical and emotional ailments that accompany the inevitable hormonal
decline. Whether to take hormone replacement therapy (HRT) or to "tough it
out naturally" seemed to be the question of the day for transitioning
women.
Although the advice and expertise of the healing community was certainly
educational (more than 50 million women will be going through menopause in the
year 2005), the information still wasn't enough to satisfy my need to understand
what was happening to me. I kept reading and searching, wanting to find out
more. Yes, I knew what it meant to be in perimenopause. I knew that estrogen
loss increased the risk of osteoporosis and heart disease. I knew also, from
personal experience, that it brought on mood swings and a whole host of other
emotional and physical problems. But what else was going on? What was really
happening to me?
Even as I asked myself that question, I sensed, as every woman does, that
menopause wasn't just about the cessation of a monthly cycle. And it wasn't
about getting old and dry and wrinkly, either. Deep within me I knew that this
experience called menopause would somehow turn into a voyage, a journey, a
time-consuming pilgrimage that might take years to complete. And it would be a
journey that would not only transform my body, but would transform my soul as
well.
And so while my endocrinologist began the arduous task of balancing my
hormone levels, I, armed with a gut feeling and a large dose of uncertainty,
began the arduous task of uncovering what the spiritual journey of menopause
encompassed. I started with the written word. But nothing connecting
spirituality with menopause could be found in the two dozen or so books I had
faithfully purchased from my local bookstore. In fact, there wasn't even a short
listing in any of the indexes on spirit. I was disappointed but not discouraged.
After all, most of the books on menopause were written by medical doctors, and
physicians were trained to heal the body, not the soul.
My next step was to go straight to the source. I talked with my mother, my
grandmother, my aunts, and every other woman over 50 who would tolerate my
intrusive questioning. My search eventually led me to internet chat rooms,
where, not so surprisingly, I found the reassurance and answers I had been
looking for.
These women were not the least bit shy about sharing their spiritual
transformation with me. Not only did I receive an enormous amount of information
on what to expect over the next few years, I learned a lot about the chutzpah of
postmenopausal women who are allowed to share their experiences over the
internet without the fear of someone shaming them. And as I corresponded with
these women, I also began to document my own journey through menopause. As I
did, I learned a few truths about the menopausal spirit.
One of the most enduring lessons I learned was that the menopausal life
passage isn't about a woman's body fighting to right itself of hormone
imbalances at all. It is really about the soul trying to right itself of
spiritual imbalances; it is about a woman's spirit fighting to regain a sense of
symmetry in a distorted, asymmetrical world.
Though unbalanced hormones are certainly a symptom of the passage, it is the
heart's cry to once again be absolute, and the spirit's desire to return to the
place where it can exist in its natural state of strength and courage that
defines the real journey through menopause.
And I learned that the menopausal pilgrimage was about returning to that
place, that sacred land at the core of the soul, called home. And in returning
to that home, that inner sanctum, a woman would again find that sense of
spiritual strength and wholeness that she craved, and she would once again be
filled with the zest and self-reliance that she had before puberty and children
and her husband lured her away.
In addition to enlightening me about the spiritual truths behind menopause,
these women also gave me a lot of down-to-earth advice about the myths and
fallacies that surround the physical transformation.
One of the most widespread misconceptions I discovered was that menopause was
an event that happens to a woman around the age of 51. Although the average age
of completing menopause may be 51, many women begin experiencing symptoms as
early as 35. This means that menopause can often take up to ten or more years.
And so the process of birthing oneself, which is what a woman does as she moves
through menopause, becomes a lengthy one indeed.
An obstetrician was once asked how long it takes for a child to be born. He
answered, "It takes as long as it takes." And so it is with menopause.
It takes as long as it takes. The menopausal quest to retrieve that sense of
wholeness is a pilgrimage that cannot be rushed, and it is important for a woman
(and her loved ones) to keep in mind that one doesn't travel to the inner
sanctum of the female soul and back overnight.
For the very reason that menopause is such a lengthy transition and not just
a threshold, I feel that the journey should not be classified as a solitary rite
of passage, but rather as a succession of rites or rituals. These succession of
rites mark a woman's way through mid-life, validating the pain and frustration
of her voyage like stepping stones across a rising river. Robert Fulghum wrote
in his book From
Beginning to End: The Rituals of Our Lives that "rituals are one
way in which attention is paid." I have found this to be true for the
rituals of menopause. The stepping stones of rites from childbearer to crone
draw a woman's attention to her changing body, and more importantly, they draw
attention to her changing spirit.
Like all female rituals, such as childbirth or monthly cramps, the menopausal
rites are not meant as a punishment from God or nature, but are a way of waking
us up to being truly female. They are part of the invaluable lessons bestowed
upon us by our Creator that, from the very beginning, set us apart from men.
These sacred rites are also a road map, a sort of diagram to chart our course --
a way of understanding where we've been and where we are headed. And more
importantly, they are a reminder of just how long we stayed away, and just how
far we've come in finding our way back home.
I would also like to add that although the information I gathered did seem to
repeat itself in many places, it was still apparent that this unity of
sisterhood wasn't exactly the same for all women. I have found that as each
woman makes her way through these rites, she will find herself on an
unprecedented, uncharted course. Some may find the sacraments painful, while
others may hardly notice them. The journey of menopause is a highly
individualistic passage, for even as all women make the voyage, the currents
each chooses to sail on are hers and hers alone.
A vital part of the menopausal healing process can only be completed by
reclaiming that ancient golden elixir of the crone and bringing back the wisdom
from it to share with the rest of the planet. So while this pilgrimage of
menopause is about journeying within, it's also a pilgrimage of journeying out
as well.
I wish you all the best on your own voyage into the wise-woman years.
 This
article is excerpted from The Seven Sacred Rites of Menopause, ? 2000,
by Kristi Meisenbach Boylan. Reprinted with permission of the publisher, Santa
Monica Press. http://www.santamonicapress.com
1-800-784-9553 for toll-free ordering.
Info/Order
this book.
About the Author
Kristi
Meisenbach Boylan, the author of both The
Seven Sacred Rites of Menopause and The
Seven Sacred Rites of Menarche,
is the former publisher of The Parent Track Magazine. She began writing about
women's issues and the relationship between spiritual growth and fluctuating
hormones after her own menopausal transformation, resulting in the widely
praised The Seven Sacred Rites of Menopause. For The Seven Sacred Rites of
Menarche, Meisenbach Boylan drew upon her experiences as the mother of a
twelve-year-old girl. She lives in Richardson, Texas.
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