When my brain went on hiatus

I felt afraid, but I should not have been

I have an interesting question for you today. Picture yourself having a difficult moment in which you feel many big emotions threatening to destroy you. At such a moment, does your brain tend to work overtime, or does it prefer to go on hiatus?

As a lifelong overthinker, I am used to hearing my brain whirr at several thousand RPMs during moments of uncertainty or panic. I picture my panicked brain as a spiral, something like the interior of the Guggenheim Museum. This spiral is in rapid motion, and the curvatures are laced with words like “not good enough”, “what if”, “why me”, “what should I do next”, etc. You get the drift.

But yesterday afternoon, when I was inexplicably overcome with a feeling of sadness and despair, my brain chose to shut down completely. Forget coherence; there was not a single thought there! Just lots of unnamed feelings swirling around messily, refusing to form the (comforting) geometric spiral I was used to.

© David Heald, from ArchEyes.com

They say that allowing your mind to empty itself of all conscious thought can lead to a blissful, higher state of being. Yesterday’s experience of being unable to think felt nothing like bliss. The loss of control was terrifying. No wonder I have never been good at meditation despite years of practising yoga!

The battle with yourself at moments of panic or despair is perhaps the hardest one we will ever face. It felt even more challenging with my brain on hiatus. All I could do was curl up and wait. Eventually, coherence returned and I could claw myself out of that dark place. By evening, I felt a sense of normalcy.

I’ll keep tabs on possible health triggers, of course, but it occurred to me today that there may be a simple explanation for what I experienced yesterday. As a woman, a mother, and a working professional, my life is a giant exercise in multitasking. Even if I look like I am resting, my brain is always on overdrive. Non-stop thinking, planning and worrying are as ordinary as breathing.

Relinquishing control is not easy for women because, in patriarchal societies, women’s physical and emotional labour is not only assumed but constantly glorified. We are socialised into thinking of our incessant labour as not just duty but a matter of pride. Thus, we become incapable of trusting anyone else. And afraid of losing control of ourselves. We confer mini God complexes on ourselves. We imagine our homes, our workplaces, and our children's lives would fall apart without our constant involvement. We also know this is not true, but we are stuck in a cycle of insecurity, and a constant need for validation, even if only from ourselves.

Ironically, especially for women like me who are hitting perimenopause, letting ourselves go and being able to suspend that endless thought loop is exactly what the doctor ordered. Practise self-care, prioritise yourself, and be kind to yourself - these are the mantras offered by the many psychologists and menopause influencers I encounter on my Instagram feed. It may not be entirely pragmatic, but I think it behoves us to try.

Therefore, I will choose to read yesterday’s experience a little differently. Perhaps asking my brain to go on a temporary hiatus was my body’s way of sending me on a forced break. Perhaps I will learn, in time, to heed these signals earlier and with more grace. I will learn to be less hard on myself and allow others to step in while I lean into myself for a bit. I will ask guilt to accompany my thoughts on a gentle, meandering hike while I let my empty self wallow, snooze, rest and recharge. Who knows, maybe, at long last, I will even learn to meditate!