I recently had actual recurring thoughts that I was losing my mind.

When things I generally do well became things I wasn’t doing well, I began to worry.  I was misspelling basic words – and I’m a good speller.  I always have been.

I have been struggling, also, to be happy.  I found myself mopey basically everywhere.  Oh, look at me at this job I’m so glad for.  Sigh.  Back at home again with my dependable spouse in this house we love.  Sigh.  I think my therapist was even a little concerned, which made me a little concerned, because one reason I talk to her is so I know when there is something I need to worry about, or so she can reassure me there isn’t.  When she dismissed me just being an Eeyore and asked how I felt about medication, I heard her.

I have certainly been evaluating, a lot.  Evaluating why I’m struggling, why I’m unhappy, what changes I can and/or should make.  I felt like there needed to be changes.  I also felt heavy, like maybe I’ve done everything I need to do in life and it’s OK if things wrap for me.  (Now you can see why my therapist was concerned.  I wasn’t going to take an active role in wrapping things up – I just didn’t see a lot to be excited about.) 

There’s no shortage of suggestions from people, from the internet, from ads on TV, from ads on podcasts, from salespeople, from physicians, FROM THE ENTIRE WORLD about what I can do differently, even if I haven’t even asked.  My phone has deduced my age and weight, apparently (I probably told it), and announces to me regularly that I am (peri)menopausal.  Am I?  I don’t know.  Mom died before we got to talk about that timeline.  Is that why I am overweight now and I wasn’t in my 20s?  Or is it because I used to move more and drink less alcohol?  My overall diet now is better than it was in my 20s – isn’t it?  I got rid of my mid-morning snack of Mountain Dew and Doritos.  Should I bring that back?  Was it a secret skinny-maker?  I live with someone who lost a significant amount of weight and has kept it off and also has his own ideas about my fat situation (but has never used those words).  I am hot and odorous sometimes, in ways I don’t recall being before.  Are those signs of (peri)menopause?  Everyone talks about hot flashes, and Lume ads are everywhere, speaking of women’s bodies and unpleasant odors and more unsolicited information, or are those ads just coming for me?  But I’ve been on the pill since I was 20, and my doctor and I find that bring on birth control hormones is another good way to have no idea where I am on the menopause timeline.  My (younger) sister’s doctor told her something different based on bloodwork.  Should I have bloodwork?  Why didn’t my doctor suggest bloodwork?  Should I demand bloodwork?  I love my doctor.  He knows what he’s doing.  I should take him beer because we talk about it during my visits.  He also thinks I should lose weight.  “I’d like to see you around 130, Christina.”  “Me, too, Doc!  I hope you like these IPAs I brought you!  Cheers!” 

At this age, I have a pretty good number of friends who also talk to me about menopause (and/or hysterectomies).  One of them added me to a Facebook group.  Now I get even more information about menopause – which may or may not be at all relevant to me because I don’t know idea if I’m going through it.  Maybe it doesn’t even matter.  I’ll just deal with my symptoms.

But with those 359 words, you have a good example of my mind processing one topic that potentially affects me.  You may have noticed, it didn’t stay just one topic.  Now consider that my brain receives a multitude of topics every single day, all presenting as something worthy of consideration.  You don’t have to imagine it.  If you’re reading this, your life is likely no different than mine.  You’re being hit up all day, every day, same as I am.

The world seems so noisy now, so demanding.  Has it always been this way, or am I just reacting to it poorly at this moment?  People want me to do things.  People want money from me.  People want information from me.  People are trying to scam me (and dammit, I am getting dumber or they are getting better).  People want to criticize my choices and tell me what I should choose instead.  One recurring ad I see is telling me to quit drinking wine specifically, but consider an alternate substance (I assume CBD/THC) in gummy form.  Alternately, I have posts from people who have just quit drinking, the end.  (I see nothing from anyone who has quit THD/CBD.  Apparently one industry is up and coming and one is being beaten down like soda.)   I also follow a variety of breweries, wineries, and restaurants, so my feed is pretty diverse on the to-imbibe-or-not topic.

That same company who wants me to give up wine popped up with an ad this morning that I did not find inspiring or reassuring.  I found it to be an example of the kind of things that have been weighing me – and probably, a lot of people – down:

Your list will be different than that one.  Mine is.  (For starters, I have 6,926 unread emails over several email accounts, I don’t think about exes, and I enjoy laundry.)  The first thing I do every morning – and multiple times a day – is delete unwanted emails and review emails I do need to pay attention to.  I have also heard that I should absolutely NOT look at my phone first thing in the day and should instead meditate.  I think that is a lovely idea and I am also quite that certain me mediating first thing in the day would result in me lying in bed falling back asleep.  I do, however, find that there is a special place between me asleep and me awake where I think I have a special communion with another realm that is all too brief and easy to lose (forget).

Following the constant barrage of emails (which I occasionally take the time to unsubscribe to, what a great and horrible use of time all at once), there are the salespeople and politicians who text me – and the politicians WILL NOT STOP.  There are the ads that catch my eye online and when I click on them (“How much is that [whatever]?) I get inundated with, “Save money by giving us your email!” “Sign up for our newsletter” “Don’t go yet!”  And if I make it to checkout, I often get, “Do you want to round up?”  “Will you pay extra so we don’t have to?”  STOP IT.  I AM SO SORRY I CAME HERE.  I DON’T WANT TO BUY ANYTHING ONLINE AGAIN, EVER.  Take me back to a brick-and-mortar store.  Wait a minute . . . I was just at the mall recently . . . never mind.  Putting shopping on hold because we are trying to save money, anyway.

It occurred to me earlier this week how much stuff I am carrying similar to what is on the Feals list.  How many opinions, suggestions, requests, what-ifs, and demands are whispering or ultimately shouting at me constantly – until I can’t hear myself anymore.  Until I try to write something I know and instead, I write something I no.  And I consider seeing a memory specialist.  And I am sad, maybe because I am uncertain and afraid of so much (Do I have cancer?  Do I have heart disease?  What is killing me?  How do I not die?  Crap, I am going to die.  People are going to die.  Death is sad.  Let’s do another ALZ walk.), and I wonder what is wrong with me, I wonder where I am in life, what have I accomplished, I wonder who cares, I wonder how I’m failing and where I’ve succeeded, where I’m succeeding now, and I contemplate so many things that may or may not even be my own desires, but maybe are just a lot of things I think I should do because . . . why?  Because countless people or bots shoved them at me throughout the days/weeks/months/years?  Because maybe even my real-life friends (and me) are just repeating to me something that a bot told them?  (Eat this, not that.  Do this, not that.  Believe this, not that.)  Because too much of my life now is spent fact-checking?  Sometimes, eventually, I forget whether something I am doing was my own idea, my own actual desire, or just something someone else told me, well-meaning or otherwise.  Sometimes I do things I don’t even like just because I want to make someone else happy.   And sometimes that’s part of being a good friend, family member, or employee, but sometimes, it’s also just a lot of doing, a lot of “should” and “have to” and not a lot of joy.

Blessedly, something lifted that fog this week.  Something cleared the clutter and the noise and I could hear myself again – that one person who will always be with me, who has always been with me, who knows exactly who I am, both terrible and wonderful.  Now, that is not to say I don’t need outside influences.  I am grateful for sound guidance and people who challenge me when I go astray.  What I am not grateful for is so much “guidance” that I can’t hear straight.  I am grateful for a doctor who cares enough to tell me in a very kind way that I could be a little healthier.  I am also grateful that I can balance that information against having been able to fit into some of the same clothes for years, being in the last year of my 40s, and knowing that losing weight is and is not as easy as I want it to be.  I have gained a lot of insight on this topic that I did not have 20 years ago.  I just wish I lost a pound every time I thought about it instead of every time I ate something delicious.

The sum of a lot of this noise, for me, is that what works for others may not work for me, and vice-versa – because we have different needs, bodies, feelings.  And sometimes, people just make bad decisions even when presented with fantastic opportunities and information.  What I want for others may not be what they want, and vice-versa.  Relationships I imagine with other people may not ever exist in reality, and relationships other people want with me may not be what I want.  They may drain me or frustrate me and not be relationships I can sustain, or spend time in frequently. 

So, here I am, being a little selfish again.  In a world where everything has become a demand, it is time for me to make some demands of my own.  I guess another way to look at that is setting boundaries.  Tomato, tomahto.  But all of the noise cannot matter.  It’s too much.  I keep thinking about drinking from a firehouse – a phrase my husband uses – someone who also lives his life with too much “should” and “have to” and not a lot of joy.  But I cannot fix him.  I cannot solve his problems.  The work I can do is with the one writing this blog.  I can be an example, as he is an example with his weight loss of what worked for him.  Now I go find what works for me to keep my head clear and my heart light.  Goodbye, Eeyore.  Let’s find Joy again.