Vitamin D deficiency or is it menopause after all?

I am so incredibly tired. Not the kind of tired where you’ve had a busy week, go to bed early, and bounce back the next day. No, this feels more like someone has pulled the plug and forgotten to put it back in.

We’ve just moved into a new house, my workdays carry on as usual, and every spare moment is spent doing odd jobs or painting. Work, family, renovations. On top of that, my mind doesn’t always switch to power-saving mode on its own. No wonder I’m tired, I think. Surely menopause doesn’t have to come into it?

I also blame the pain on all of this. My shoulder isn’t recovering properly from the painting, and there’s a knot in my back that radiates into my hand. The pain near my right hip is easy to ignore at first, but it gradually worsens. Too much physical work, too little rest, I tell myself.

Then there’s the poor sleep, irritability, and one cold after another. Until, at some point, I think: maybe this is more than just being busy.

So, I go to my GP.

At the GP’s, I share my somewhat vague story. Tired, in pain, frequent colds, easily irritated, and just not feeling like myself. I don’t even think it sounds all that convincing.

The GP also considers the move and all the busyness. A new environment, a different routine, a lot on my mind. Honestly, that still seems very plausible to me. Even so, just to be sure, she orders a blood test.

The only thing that shows up is a vitamin D deficiency. Not alarmingly low according to the reference values, but low enough to warrant action. And strangely enough, I’m almost relieved. It’s something concrete, something I can actually address.

Only, it turns out that boosting my vitamin D levels isn’t a matter of just a few days. My energy doesn’t return straight away. The next morning, that plug is definitely not suddenly back in the socket, and there’s no jumping out of bed fully recharged, ready to paint another eight walls. Shame.

I need patience. And at that moment, patience isn’t exactly something I have in abundance. Some days I feel a bit more energised. On other days, I think: well, great, we’re right back where we started.

My mood swings and crying spells don’t suddenly disappear either. My partner and son still sometimes prefer to steer clear of me.

Still, over time, I do notice a difference. I have more energy, I get ill less often, and the pain near my hip and shoulder eases. So was that it then? That would be nice and straightforward. The only thing is, I still don’t know whether vitamin D is the whole explanation.

I feel better as my vitamin D levels rise. But that still doesn’t tell me exactly where my symptoms are coming from. There are other possible explanations. By now, the thought of menopause is also lingering in the back of my mind. I’m only 39, and my mother started going through menopause in her early forties. She also noticed changes early on, but at the time, she knew little about menopause. Looking back, she says: “If I had been listened to more back then, I would have felt less insecure.”

Maybe it’s a bit of everything.

That’s still what I find hardest about these kinds of symptoms. You want to know where they’re coming from so you know what to do. Is it stress? Sleep? A deficiency? Menopause? Just too much on your plate? Or am I just making a fuss?

That last thought, by the way, crosses my mind far too quickly. Even though I’d never say that to someone else.

Supplementing vitamin D helps me. I do dare to say that. My experience isn’t proof that all my symptoms are caused by that deficiency. Maybe, more than anything, I just want one explanation because dealing with several things at once is simply inconvenient.

What I do know by now is this: I don’t feel well. And I don’t need to know whether that’s due to vitamin D, stress, or menopause in order to take it seriously.

Anneloes is 39 years old and writes for SeeMe-nopause about women, health, and menopause as they appear in real life: sometimes clear, sometimes confusing, and sometimes only recognisable in hindsight. She works with language, health, and women’s stories, also writes books, lives with her wife and their son, and has discovered that even when you’re close to the subject, you can still overlook your own signals.