[Editor’s Note: This anthology was published by Girl God Books (2022).]
“Things We Don’t Talk About at Menopause” by Trista Hendren
Trigger Warning for suicide ideation.
This was tough to write and may be difficult to read. Make sure you are in a good place first.
After I gave birth the first time, I frantically called the nurse into the bathroom. A brick of blood Jello had plopped out of my vagina—and I was terrified. She just laughed it off and said, “Oh that’s normal!”
Later, I commiserated with a friend who had a similar experience. “Why didn’t they tell us any of this?” There was so much about my births that I would do over if I could. Had I birthed another baby, I would have done almost everything differently.
Like birth, menopause is something people don’t tell you much about. In my early forties, I began thinking about what books I would read when the time came, but I did not consider that maybe I should read them ahead of time to be prepared.
Peri-menopause has been a volatile second adolescence for me. I don’t have patience for things I used to. The tantrums I repressed as a child came out in full force. I stopped sleeping well and entered a severe depression.
Nothing about my state of mind made logical sense to me. I had everything in the world to be happy about—but I could not pull myself out of my moods. I tried just about every sort of supplement and herb I could think of before I finally got some relief for my insomnia with Skullcap and Motherwort. But months without decent sleep did a number on my brain—and I could not seem to pull myself out of the hellish anxiety I was suffering. I was embarrassed to tell anyone besides my husband (and finally my best friend) that I sometimes thought about killing myself.
I did not know that suicide idealization in menopause was a thing until I read Susun Weed’s book on menopause.
“Like uncontrollable emotions, thoughts of suicide are normal for menopausal women. Remember that the death phase of menopausal initiation does not imply actual physical death. Yet it would be foolish to deny that the feeling of dying can be as real emotionally as if it were actually happening.
There is a physical/emotional logic to thoughts of suicide. These righting disturbing thoughts can show the menopausal woman the next steps on her journey. Real suicide is an act of desperate self-empowerment. But thoughts of suicide can be pathways to wholeness, health, and self-realization. Like depression, suicidal thoughts during menopause are potent guides to truth and joy.”[1]
Wow, I thought! Why didn’t anyone ever tell me this??? I took a screenshot of the passages and sent them to my bestie. She knew instantly this was about me. I thought I had done a pretty good job of hiding it. I didn’t want to worry anyone since it seemed highly unlikely that I would go through with it—and I felt self-conscious to be struggling in this way when there was seemingly nothing wrong with my life. It was a huge relief to finally start talking about it. As I opened up to more people, I realized I was not alone.
When I googled suicidal thoughts during menopause, I saw a slew of articles that were published last fall.
The Independent reported,
“Around one in ten women experience suicidal thoughts because of the perimenopause, according to a new study.
Research, exclusively shared with The Independent, found around nine in ten women going through the perimenopause experience mental health problems.
The study, carried out by a free women’s health app called Health & Her, discovered three quarters of women said they had never experienced mental health issues before going through the perimenopause.
Researchers, who polled 2,000 women in the UK aged between 46 and 60 who have experienced the peri-menopause, found just over a third of women polled have not sought help with their symptoms, while eight out of 10 do not discuss mental health issues with their partner or spouse.”[2]
Upon reading this, I felt extremely grateful to be married to Anders. This is not my first marriage: I fully understand why so many women do not share this with their husbands.
Weeks later, I came as close as I hope I ever come to taking my life. Anders held me all night while I sobbed until I finally fell into a deep sleep. It was a spiritual death of sorts. I felt the deepest, most excruciating emotional pain I have ever endured in my life. Everything that I had pushed down within me throughout my life was no longer willing to be stored in my body. I couldn’t numb it out or stuff it down longer; it wanted to come out.
I realized the next morning that my life was not working for me anymore.
In truth, it never had.
I had spent my entire life giving myself away, piece by piece. There was nothing left to give. I had to reassess.
And, I had to change.
As someone who abhors any sort of pain, I was puzzled by my sudden desire to slit my wrists. This is the absolute last way I would ever want to end my life. I found Susun Weed’s question helpful.
“If you were to cut your wrists off (cut off your hands, symbolically) what would you no longer have to handle?”[3]
That struck me right at my core. As a recovering co-dependent, I have carried far too many tasks for others my entire fucking life.
Carmel Glenane posed a question that has haunted me since I read it several years ago. She wrote, “Delve into yourself and ask yourself why you don’t consider yourself ‘first’ in everything.”[4]
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became at my own indoctrination. I find putting myself first almost impossible. And that is after decades of re-programming. While this is frustrating, I think we also must acknowledge that we are deeply socialized since birth to put every single person ahead of our own needs.
When you meet the Crone, She tears down all that nonsense. She demands that Her needs be met first.
I started to let go of things that were not my responsibility. I started to ask for more help. I let go of the energy vampires[5] in my life. I changed my schedule so that it honored me first—and stopped accommodating everyone else to my own detriment.
I began to live on my own terms.
Susun Weed wrote:
“If you feel called by death, do not mistake this as a call to take your own life. It is a call to embrace your eventual death as fully as possible while living as fully as possible.”[6]
Understanding that these feelings were something that many women experience at this stage of life was deeply affirming to me. I stopped feeling ashamed and selfish—and began to deeply examine what my thoughts meant.
I remember when I read A Serpentine Path, I was shocked that the late Carol P. Christ had suffered from suicidal thoughts. After making this connection with menopause, I pulled Carol’s book off the shelf once again.
“I began to understand that the voice that says, ‘No one understands me, no one loves me, I might as well die,’ was born in the struggle to suppress my feelings, to grow up, to control myself. Little Carol had never really wanted to die. All she had ever wanted was love. What she needed to say was: ‘I hurt, I want, I feel, I am.’
Now when I hear the words, ‘No one loves me, no one understands me, I might as well die,’ echoing in my mind again—and I will hear them from time to time—I will not be so afraid. I will feel sympathy for little Carol and for big Carol, for whom the struggle to stay in control was just too difficult. I will replace the refrain of ancient pain with the words they masked: ‘I hurt. I feel. I want. I am.‘ The darkness I feared did not hold a monster. It held a human feeling.”[7]
“I hurt. I feel. I want. I am.”
Just reading those words brings tears to my eyes. These are radical and affirming words for women.
I began to acknowledge little Trista more each day. It was easier to love a little girl than a grown woman. It was harder to give my middle-aged self as much compassion in the beginning.
So, I sat with that. And gradually, I started to learn how to love big me too.
It took me a long time to start—and then to finish—this piece. I did not want to share this information about myself. But I have come to realize that I am here today because I can share. Suffering alone with these thoughts is torturous.
I want to acknowledge that I am alive today because of the people who have actively supported me. I have a husband and a best friend with whom I can share anything—no matter how dark—without judgment.
Many women do not have such relationships. In the end, in tribute to Carol, I decided to share some of my story too. Her courageous honesty made me feel a lot less alone.
I am also painfully aware that, if I were still living in the United States going through “Family Court” again that my mental state very well could have been used against me. This, I fear, keeps many women silent with their pain.
This must change.
If you find yourself as one of the many women who experience suicidal thinking during peri-menopause, this advice from Ellen Bass was useful to me during my darkest night.
“If you’ve tried everything you can think of and you still feel like you can’t make it through the night, sit down in a chair and don’t get back up. It might be the most miserable night of your life, but morning will come and you’ll be alive without having hurt yourself.”[8]
These thoughts occur for some of us. They are scary as hell. And, like most things, they will pass.
As I was finishing this essay, I had a long lunch with one of my dearest friends in Bergen. She mentioned that she wants to read this anthology since she is nearly a decade behind me and wants to be prepared. I told her I was writing this piece, and she said something like, Yeah, but that isn’t going to happen to someone like you. I saw the tears gather in her eyes as I told her that it had.
I don’t think many of us fully feel how precious we are to our friends and family. In that moment, I did.
May we all embrace our inherent Divine worth.
(To be continued)
[1] Weed, Susun S. New Menopausal Years: The Wise Woman Way, Alternative Approaches for Women 30-90. Ash Tree Publishing; 1st edition, 2002.
[2] Oppenheim, Maya. “Fear of being labelled hysterical: 1 in 10 women experience suicidal thoughts due to perimenopause.” Exclusive: ’Many women are suffering in silence, not even talking to their partner or spouse about it,’ says expert. The Independent. 06 October 2021.
[3] Weed, Susun S. New Menopausal Years: The Wise Woman Way, Alternative Approaches for Women 30-90. Ash Tree Publishing; 1st edition, 2002.
[4] Glenane, Carmel. “The Alchemies of Isis Embodiment.” On the Wings of Isis: Reclaiming the Sovereignty of Auset. Girl God Books; 2020.
[5] Northrup, Christiane. Dodging Energy Vampires: An Empath’s Guide to Evading Relationships That Drain You and Restoring Your Health and Power. Hay House Inc., 2019.
[6] Weed, Susun S. New Menopausal Years: The Wise Woman Way, Alternative Approaches for Women 30-90. Ash Tree Publishing; 1st edition, 2002.
[7] Christ, Carol P. A Serpentine Path: Mysteries of the Goddess. FAR Press; 2016.
[8] Bass, Ellen and Davis, Laura. The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse. William Morrow Paperbacks; 4th -20th Anniversary edition, 2008.