I am in my 50s and going through perimenopause. Last November I sprained my ankle — and since then, my whole life has changed.
I really enjoy volunteering; it brings me so much joy and purpose. My last volunteer shift was at the end of March. Since the injury, I’ve been on a long journey of recovery: from non‑weight‑bearing to partial weight‑bearing, and using aids along the way — a knee scooter, wheelchair, walking frame, and now a walking stick. At times, getting better feels so far away. I am mostly stuck at home unless someone can take me out. I dare not go out alone, afraid that even a small step might aggravate my ankle again.
Doing full‑body resistance‑band exercises helps — it makes me feel stronger and more confident. But there is a painful pattern: I feel I am improving… and then suddenly it flares up all over again. It feels almost like being ‘tricked’ into thinking I’ve recovered, only to have to start all over from the beginning. I feel despair sometimes, but I keep telling myself I must be resilient.
Then, more heartbreak came: my dog passed away from kidney failure. Just two weeks later, my sister also left us — she lost her battle with cancer. I lost two very precious beings within a short time. My dog was with me for 14 years — smart, adorable, always following me everywhere at home. My sister loved me exactly as I was, and was always there whenever I felt low. Losing them leaves such a big space in my heart. I promised myself: I will stay strong — I can do this.
Everyone else is busy working during the day, so there’s often no one to talk to. That’s why I’m ‘ranting’ here — just putting everything into words. I am truly blessed to have a caring family; they check in often through calls and messages. Even so, being at home alone most days, I still feel lonely. My days go by slowly: watching TV, crocheting, resting, cooking or doing simple chores…
