Premature Ovarian Failure (aka Menopause when you are too young to be in menopause)

The last few weeks have been rough. There is not an ounce of me that wants to live in a menopausal world. If the symptoms weren't so severe, I could probably have a better outlook on it. My logical side would say, "Oh, well, at least your endometriosis will have a break for a bit. The flares will still occur but they won't be as frequent." But the changes in my body are happening at lightning speed - faster than I can learn about them and mentally prepare. It freaks me out and I worry about the long-term effects of going into it so early. I've had so many bizarre things happen to my body that I never even knew could be associated with menopause.

I have learned that what I have isn't technically menopause because I'm not old enough for menopause. They call it Premature Ovarian Failure which can be caused by surgical trauma to the ovaries...and with 3 surgeries where my ovaries were diced up for cystectomies, I guess they've really gone on strike this time. They say it's pretty rare too with one in 1,000 women under 30 and one in 100 women under 40. I just seem to be lucky enough to get to be in that 1%. The weird thing is saying Premature Ovarian Failure makes me feel a little bit better than saying Menopause. Menopause makes me feel like more of my life is being stolen - almost like I'm being propelled into the future by a good 15 years. I might just look like I'm 50 by this time next year.

And I guess that's where I'm at. My life isn't my own nor has it been for years. Coming to grips with this idea is never easy and it is a constant battle. It's like picking up and carrying my cross on an hourly basis. I'm always aware of it. I can't forget it. It's become an integral part of me the same way breathing is. You can't separate from it. It's there. Always. Forever. There is no escape from it. Accepting it is really the only thing to do in order to move forward - which I have done a better job of in the last year or so, but going into menopause has created a lot of anger in me. Maybe the anger has always been there, but I've just felt too miserable to devote any energy to it. Now I'm letting myself feel it and talk about it more. Right now, it sounds a lot like complaining, but such is the process of working through grief. And let me tell you, chronic illness results in a lot of grief!

The last two weeks were filled with a lot of anger and depression. Anger that despite doing literally EVERYTHING right, life is still hard. Of course, I'm under no illusion that life should be easy yet I find myself wondering why it seems mine is still much more difficult than most. Most things that we deal with in life that are hard, with the exception of health and death, seem to be finite. Relationships are hard. Divorce is hard. Reconciliation is hard. Careers are hard. Parenting is hard. Finances are hard. Family matters are hard. Losing a job is hard. Moving is hard. All of these things (and many more) are very difficult at times, but, thankfully, there is an endpoint to them. At some point, you are able to move past them and life returns to a normal state. Whereas chronic illness has no end point nor does death. You will always miss the life you once had or could have had - the dreams that dwindle and die. The same goes for missing loved ones - the way you miss them may change, but the cold hard fact is all you have left is memories. That is...if you are lucky enough for your memory to work.

Over the next few weeks, I'll let myself feel all of this and then see how it all shakes out. There is a lot on the mental list of stuff to process because I've compartmentalized so much over the last few years. When all your energy goes into surviving for the next hour, there is a lot that gets put on the back burner...I may even spend some time crying as that is something I've avoided fairly successfully for quite some time.