I Locked Myself in the Bathroom to Cry. Now, I'm Using HRT.

I just managed to get all three boys home without crying on the school run. Having held it in for an hour, smiling at the school gates, I headed to our dark basement bathroom, with a lock that doesn’t actually quite lock, closed the door, and looked at myself in the mirror, crying. It was a continuation of tears that had lasted the entirety of the day.

It was more than that day though.

For the last two years, two weeks before most of my monthly periods, I’ve felt, just very, very, very low, and anxious.

But every woman gets like that before her period, doesn’t she?

It’s the question I used to brush away my feelings of despondency.

Friends would get a taste of my sadness in snapshots, when we’d go for walks, or coffees, or while we’d wait for the kids to be let out of school. The feelings couldn’t stay hidden, they were always so close to the surface, waiting to burst out and be comforted.

My kids, though they didn’t understand the cause, felt my irritability. Knowing this, I spiralled into guilt. What if they remembered me as the mum who shouted, who withdrew, who couldn’t regulate her emotions?

Above anyone, it was my husband who felt the full force of my irritation, which led to anxiety, which ended in depression. Most of the time, he was so good, even when I wasn’t, which again, invited endless guilt.

“He’d be better off with someone else,” I thought. “Someone who was happy. Someone stable.”

Since I’m self-employed, there is no going off on the sick, but I reckon if I had been employed, I would have opted to get a sick note. I couldn’t focus, felt overwhelmed the minute I’d open my computer. But not wanting my reputation to suffer, I carried on, carried on, paying with a fast-facing heart rate.

I’d wonder why I couldn’t lift myself out of the gloom, and why the gloom was even there in the first place.

There are most definitely things in my life that are hard, stressful, sad, but surely not hard enough, stressful enough, or sad enough to lead me to wonder what it would feel like if I got in a terrible car crash, if it would be so terrible.

Other symptoms presented as well. Sheets and pyjamas wet in the morning with sweat (not the sexy kind!), dryness down there, a rounding stomach, bloating, headaches, fatigue.

“Really, I have got to see a doctor,” I’d tell myself in the middle of it all, each month.

And then, my period would start, and like magic, I’d get better, persuading myself I no longer needed a doctor – didn’t want to waste their time.

This pattern went on for two years.

But locked in that bathroom (this was in January), I knew – I couldn’t carry on like this. It wasn’t fair to my kids or my husband. And it wasn’t a way I was prepared to live indefinitely.

The next morning, while I was taking the dog for a walk, I rang the GP, hoping they wouldn’t fob me off.

“What’s your reason for phoning?” the lady on the front desk asked.

“Well. I. Um. I’ve been feeling depressed and anxious, for two years. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like not to be here.”

“Can you come at 4:30 to see a doctor?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, I can.”

I hung up, and in the middle of the path, hidden in trees, I leant over and cried. Someone, a professional, knew. This was real.

The first doctor I saw was a man. I don’t think he expected me to come in with a list of hormonal symptoms. He quickly suggested I see the women’s health specialist two weeks later. He ordered for bloods to be taken too.

Two weeks later, I sat down again with a doctor, crying as I explained how sad I was, reading out my list of other symptoms.

“It does sound like you could use some help,” the doctor said in a hurried way, not unfeeling, but as if she had just read a case study of someone who needed intervention.

She listed off three medical options, to deal with perimenopausal symptoms, in this order: the combination birth control pill, an antidepressant, or HRT.

I knew I didn’t want an anti-depressant. I was only depressed two weeks before each period.

Isn’t HRT just for old women? Won’t birth control make me fat? What’s the difference between the two?

After explaining that HRT was body identical, which sounded safer to me, I went with this option.

Excited to have help in my hand as I left, I texted friends who I had spoken with often about my mood swings. A couple of the responses shook me, no fault of the responders. They asked if I was too young, and if it was safe to use HRT.

I freaked. Totally freaked. I needed answers, but couldn’t find much online. Would HRT give me breast cancer and blood clots? Would I be more at risk because I had started so young?

Super luckily, a fabulous editor let me write an article about HRT in women under 40. I spoke with other women like me who were on HRT, and a specialist doctor who answered all my questions, so very patiently. I felt seen and understood. And I felt confident that HRT was safe to use for at least the next five years.

I decided to give the meds six months, just see what happened.

I’m three months in now. Been using oestrogen patches and had the Mirena coil (which releases progesterone) inserted at a sexual health clinic.

And I’ve not had one depressive episode since starting. Still seeing symptoms, but nothing like before. Gained a bit of weight, because I feel hungrier, but would rather extra pounds than depression any day.

I keep thinking about the past two years, dishing out grace to myself when I felt so unwell. I was unwell. I wasn’t crazy.

If only I had just seen a doctor earlier. If only.

Since writing on this, I’ve realised how lucky I was to get seen by a doctor that took me seriously. So many women are ignored. Told they are depressed and just need antidepressants. I had a doctor, by total chance, that took time to understand and listen to my holistic description of how I was. And she gave me choice, power.

We are living in an era that menopause is talked about often, much more than it used to be. But perimenopause still is underdiscussed. Women can be perimenopausal in their 30s. I’m only 36 (I think, or is it 37?!). And HRT can help, so I’ve been told by several doctors. But since there is a lot of outdated information about, women think HRT is scary and dangerous.

So, let’s talk about it more. About sweat. Irritability. Vaginal dryness. Low libido. Depression. Anxiety. Forgetfulness. Exhaustion. Nightmares. Let’s research it more. And let’s advocate for ourselves at our doctors’.

There’s no shame.