From PMDD to Peri-Mayhem: A Real AF Journey Through Hormones, HRT & Holy Hell Moments (part 1)

Och aye, here we go again. Another chapter in the hormonal horror story that is my life - except this one isn’t some once-a-month PMDD punch to the gut. Nope...This is the sequel nobody asked for, starring brain fog, surprise rage, back-to-back struggles of "why am I even here?", and the inability to remember what I came into the kitchen for, again...

Welcome to the rollercoaster that is peri-fucking-menopause.

This blog is not here to educate you with scientific facts (you can Google that), nor is it another beige "here's what to expect" pamphlet from the GP's office.

This is me, Sarah Malone, sharing the honest, brutal, hilarious, slightly inappropriate, and wildly relatable truths about navigating this new phase of womanhood.

I Thought I Was Losing My Mind (Again)

Cue the dramatic music.

It all kicked off when I was training to become a TEDx speaker - not a goal I'd dreamed about, but the training - I was willing to do what it took for that, I grafted for it, and practically bled over.

I should have felt on top of the world.

But instead, I was lying face down on my bathroom floor, mid-existential crisis, wondering if I was going mad. Again.

The brain fog was THICK.

The mood swings? Olympic level.

The motivation? Gone. Vamoosed. Flushed itself down the loo with the last scrap of dignity I had left after explaining for the fiftieth time that "no, I haven't seen your school jumper, and no, it didn't break on its own accord," I screamed, to one of my mini-kids.

Turns out, I wasn’t breaking down. I was breaking through.

Hello, perimenopause. You absolute sh*tstorm of an excuse to be me right now!

PMDD Was the Warm-Up Act

You’d think after dealing with PMDD for bloody years, I’d be ready for anything.

But no.

Perimenopause entered like a drunk stag do into a quiet pub - chaotic, loud, and ready to tip over every table.

What makes it extra spicy is that I’m still trying to track symptoms, moods, and cycles that make no feckin' sense anymore.

I’ll bleed for three days, then nothing for two weeks, then boom - surprise!

Full moon flow at the least convenient moment.

Like the time I was mid-coaching call and genuinely considered how long I could wear a period cup, because I had zero clue when my last cycle even began.

HRT...to be or not to be, that is the question...

As of writing this, I’ve not yet started HRT, but we’re flirting. I’ve got the appointment coming to "discuss" my blood results, and I’m cautiously optimistic.

See my video, which should give you a catch-up on who I am and what I've been trying to come to terms with for the past 18 months.

PMDD VS Peri

I want to be honest with what unfolds there, too - the good, the bad, and the hormone-fuelled ugly crying.

I’ll be uploading videos throughout this journey, because this isn’t something I want to sanitise or hide behind polished posts. I want you to see it. The bloated belly, the glazed expression, the moments where I sob because a bird landed on the fence and I felt a cosmic connection (aye, true story for another day.)

Life, Laundry & Losing It (Sometimes)

While all this hormonal chaos is unfolding, I’m also still Mum. Still cleaning, cooking, shouting out the window for someone to bring the recycling bins back. Still running businesses. Still trying to find meaning.

And yes - still throwing in the odd spiritual download mid-washing cycle.

Because that’s who I am.

I am messy. I am magical. I am menopausal(ish).

And I’m bringing you along for the ride.

Whether you’re here because you’re curious, confused, or clinging to the last thread of your sanity, wondering if this is the part where it all goes to hell - I see you.

Stay tuned for the next update, where I’ll be sharing and likely crying over an ad for dishwasher tablets. Because, you know, hormones.

Big love, big laughter, and big fuck-you energy to the patriarchy,

Sarah x