Deep in the Trenches: We’re Exhausted

Midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I’m not screwing around. If you look at each midlife “event” as a random, stand-alone struggle, you might be lured into believing you’re only up against a small constellation of “crises.” The truth is that the midlife unraveling is a series of painful nudges strung together by low-grade anxiety and depression, quiet desperation, and an insidious loss of control. By low-grade, quiet, and insidious, I mean it’s enough to make you crazy, but seldom enough for people on the outside to validate the struggle or offer you help and respite. It’s the dangerous kind of suffering—the kind that allows you to pretend that everything is OK.

Brene Brown, The Midlife Unraveling

I don’t know what’s in the air right now—cosmic chaos, retrograde nonsense, or just life being life—but everywhere I turn, women (and maybe some men, but let’s be real, my circle is mostly women) are struggling. And it feels like most of us are limping towards the end of 2024.

It’s not just one thing; it seems it’s a relentless mash-up of all the things.

You know I’ve been writing a lot about peri/menopause lately. Maybe this is part of the picture. For many of us, this whole phase of life kicks off around 35 (some lucky souls start later), and it’s not just a year or two—it’s often a decade. A decade of body and mind playing cruel jokes when we’re at our busiest, trying to juggle parenthood, work pressures, financial strain, aging and illness in our parents, and our own emotional and mental health.

And let’s be honest—it’s bloody tough.

I keep having the same conversations in my inner circle. Women are physically exhausted, feeling emotionally unsupported by partners or society at large, drowning in work stress, and barely holding it together for their kids. And those kids? They’re not exactly thriving either, with behaviour challenges and more diagnoses flying around than ever.

Even my single, child-free friends aren’t immune. They’re battling to stay afloat, stuck in a system that feels rigged against anyone who’s not absurdly wealthy.

We’re frazzled. Over-medicated. Emotionally dysregulated. Nervous systems? Shot to pieces.

Is this really living?

I sometimes wonder if it’s just my little bubble of community, but the more I look around, the more I suspect this is the vibe of our generation right now.

A couple of years ago, an older friend’s mum told me this time of life—raising kids, managing careers, keeping relationships intact—is the most intense and exhausting season for families. “You’re deep in the trenches,” she said, “but if you hang on, there’s beauty on the other side.”

The thing is, I’m seeing and experiencing nervous systems so frayed that I’m not sure we’ll all make it through unscathed.

And then there’s the bigger question: is it the system we’re stuck in?

One of my family members said, “No thanks” to the grind. They sold their city house, moved to regional Queensland, bought land, and now live almost mortgage-free. They’re raising much of their own food, reduced their work to part time, and with three kids, they’re not rolling in cash, but they have time—something most of us are desperately short of.

But let’s be real: the self-sufficient life isn’t for everyone (trust me, I’ve tried).

Still, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Why are we working ourselves into the ground to earn more, just to spend more, just to… what? Impress people? Survive?

Marriage breakdowns are becoming alarmingly common in my peer group. And let’s face it—nobody really wins in the immediate aftermath of that. For those of us still holding on, it feels like we’re living in a constant state of fight-or-flight. My GP, who specialises in menopause, said something that stuck with me: “The external stressors are bad enough, but peri/menopause amplifies everything.”

Is it that we’re suddenly less tolerant of the things we used to put up with? Or is it just one giant, cosmic clusterfuck of everything going wrong all at once?

In the middle of all this chaos, I’ve made it my mission to be a little selfish (well actually a lot - even if just temporary) —especially with my self-care of late. Even if it’s just in microdoses, I’ve realised how crucial it is to carve out those moments. I know it feels impossible sometimes to find the time, but I don’t want it to reach the point where it’s non-negotiable because my body or mind simply can’t cope anymore.

The last couple of years have been full of wake-up calls for me—losing family members and friends far too soon, before their time. It’s made me hyper-focused on the present and how I can prioritise my health so I can be there for my inner circle from a full cup, not an empty one.

The Dalai Lama once said something like,

“Man sacrifices his health to make money. Then, he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he’s so anxious about the future, he doesn’t enjoy the present.”

I feel like that hits the nail on the head for many of us right now.

So, what do we do? Do we just hang on, hoping for that “beauty on the other side”? Or do we start questioning the system, the pace, and the expectations and begin carving out something that feels more aligned with actual living?

I don’t have the answers. But I do know this: we’re deep in the trenches. And while it’s exhausting, it helps to know we’re not alone down here.

PS. I hope my next Substack is a little brighter hehe ;)