Perimenopause Symptoms: Why I Felt Crazy and Unstable When Doctors Said I Was Fine
You're standing in your kitchen, and suddenly the room tilts—your heart races. You can't catch your breath. You think: This is it. I'm dying.
You go to the doctor. The tests come back normal. "It's just stress," they say. "Here's a prescription for antidepressants. And birth control should help."
But you know—deep in your bones—that something is desperately wrong, your body doesn't feel like yours anymore. You're an alien in your own skin. Disembodied. Detached. And no one seems to understand.
I know this experience because I lived it.
I know what it feels like when your body shifts so profoundly that you no longer recognize yourself. When you hurt and cry and scream and wonder if you'll ever feel normal again. When you have ten or more hot flashes a day. When dizziness, depression, and sickness become your constant companions.
I know what it's like to go through perimenopause and corporate burnout at the same time, while battling vitamin deficiencies, while watching your mind become so unstable that you genuinely wonder if you're losing your grip on reality.
I know what it's like to hold a gun in your hand and consider ending it all because the pain—physical, mental, emotional—feels too heavy to carry.
The Breaking Point
When perimenopause hit me, it didn't announce itself. It arrived like a slow, creeping fog that eventually swallowed everything I thought I knew about my body and myself.
I lost over eighty pounds. I was sick for years. I genuinely thought I was dying.
The anxiety was severe—crippling panic attacks that made me afraid to drive, afraid to fly, afraid to exist. I didn't drive for over a year. Any small pain sent me spiraling into health anxiety, convinced I had cancer or was having a heart attack.
My brain felt like it had dementia. I couldn't think clearly. I couldn't remember things. At work—a corporate job where I was making great money—I could barely function. The stress was unbearable.
And in the midst of all this, my best friend Diane was dying.
I had to travel to be with her. I had to show up for her in her final days. But I was so sick. So consumed by what was happening in my own body. I wasn't as present for her as I wanted to be, and I carry that grief still.
My family had to hide the gun from me. I would scream. I would cry. I would fall apart completely.
The doctors kept saying I was fine. "It's all in your head," they insisted, handing me band-aid solutions that didn't address what was actually happening.
But it wasn't in my head. It was real. And I was barely surviving.
The Slow Climb Back
I reached a point where I had to choose: keep pushing through the corporate grind and literally lose myself, or walk away and focus on coming back to my body.
I left that job. I left the money, the security, the identity I'd built because none of it mattered if I couldn't recognize myself anymore.
And then I did the hardest, most necessary work of my life: I sat with the deep emotions. I let them pass through me instead of numbing them or running from them. I started building myself back up from rock bottom.
Yoga. Affirmations. Journal work. Ayurveda. Counseling. Acupuncture. Changing my diet, taking vitamins.
It took years to find what works for my body. And I want you to hear this clearly: I am so much better today than I was. But I still go through challenging days. Perimenopause is still with me. This is an ongoing journey, not a destination I've arrived at.
On the tough days, I'm reminded to ground myself. To be more present in the moment. To honor where my body is right now instead of where I think she "should" be.
I track my hormones now. I watch what I eat. I exercise. I practice mindfulness. I live a soft life—not because it's trendy, but because it's the only way I survived.
This is a daily practice. And I'm still in it.
What I Want You to Know
If you're in the thick of perimenopause right now—if you're dizzy and disoriented and afraid and being told it's all in your head—please hear me:
You are not crazy. You are not making this up. And you are not alone.
Your body is going through a massive transition, and it deserves to be honored, not dismissed. You deserve support, not Band-Aid prescriptions. You deserve to be held in a space where your experience is validated and where you can learn to come back home to yourself.
That's why I created the Soft Hearts Society™—a sacred membership community for women navigating burnout, trauma, perimenopause, and all the ways our bodies ask us to remember ourselves.
Inside the Soft Hearts Society™, you'll find:
Weekly livestreams where we process what's actually happening in our bodies and lives
Monthly guided meditations for grounding, womb healing, and nervous system regulation
Rituals and practices for honoring your body through transition
A sisterhood of women who understand what you're going through
My full medicine—Reiki transmissions, sound healing, ancestral work, and trauma-informed support
This isn't about fixing you. You're not broken.
This is about coming back to yourself and learning to mother your own body through the changes, finding softness and rest in a world that tells you to push through.
If this resonates with you—if you're ready to be held in a container where your experience matters—I invite you to join us in the Soft Hearts Society.
Also, check out our free resources, such as the Gentle Release: Releasing Family Guilt & Shame Workbook and the Self Love Journal for teens.
You don't have to do this alone. And you don't have to wait until you're "better" to deserve support.
Come sit with us. We're here.
With love and softness,
Allonia
