What to Do When You’re Struggling With Perimenopause, Parenting, and Burnout

Last night was hard.

Not in a dramatic, headline way. Not in a way that will make a good Instagram caption. Just hard in the quiet, grinding, patience-depleting way that happens when your body, your nervous system, and the world all feel like they’re pulling in opposite directions.

I was deep in the throes of a perimenopause hormone swing—the kind that makes your emotions feel loud, sharp, and relentless. I’m actively treating it with hormone replacement therapy, doing the things I’m supposed to do, listening to my doctors, paying attention to my body. And still, some days hit harder than others.

Layer on top of that a 14-year-old who, despite living with a former high school teacher and principal, is absolutely uninterested in any advice about studying for finals. The eye rolls. The resistance. The very real developmental need to reject guidance from the person who cares the most.

It was the ultimate test of patience.

And then there’s the other layer—the one we don’t talk about enough.

The world feels heavy right now.

There’s chaos. There’s cruelty. There are neighbors under attack. There are systems failing people who are already vulnerable. For those of us who are empaths—who feel deeply, who notice the underdog, who carry other people’s pain whether we want to or not—finding joy can feel almost irresponsible some days.

So what do you do when you’re struggling like this?
When it’s not one thing, but many things at once?

Here’s what I know—not as a fix, but as a handhold.

1. Name What’s Actually Happening

Struggle gets louder when everything blends together.

Last night wasn’t just about parenting.
It wasn’t just about hormones.
It wasn’t just about the state of the world.

It was all of it at once.

Separating those threads matters. Perimenopause symptoms are real and physiological. Parenting a teenager is developmentally complex. Grief and fear about the world are rational responses to instability. When you name each piece, you stop blaming yourself for reacting to an impossible pile-up.

2. Lower the Bar on Who You Need to Be Today

On hard days, the pressure to still be “good” is exhausting.

A good parent.
A good leader.
A good partner.
A good human.

Sometimes the goal is simply: don’t make it worse.

Feed the kids.
Show up enough.
Delay the conversation that doesn’t need to happen tonight.
Let “good enough” be enough.

This isn’t quitting. It’s pacing.

3. Limit How Much of the World You Let In

Caring deeply does not mean you must consume endlessly.

Being informed is important. Being flooded is harmful.

If you notice your chest tightening, your patience shrinking, your hope evaporating—pause the scroll. Put a boundary around how much suffering you absorb in one sitting. You are allowed to protect your nervous system and still care deeply about justice and humanity.

4. Do One Regulating Thing—Not Five

When everything feels off, the instinct is to fix it.

Instead, regulate it.

One walk.
One deep breath longer than the inhale.
One glass of water.
One moment outside.

Not as self-care theater. As nervous system maintenance.

5. Let Two Things Be True

This might be the most important part.

You can be deeply grateful for your life and exhausted by it.
You can love your child and feel completely depleted by parenting.
You can have support and treatment and still struggle.

Holding both truths doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you honest.

6. Remember: This Isn’t the Whole Story

Hard nights lie.

They tell you this is how it always is.
They tell you you’re failing.
They tell you the joy is gone.

It isn’t.
You aren’t.
It’s not.

Struggle doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re human in a season that requires more from you than usual.

If you’re in it right now—hormones, parenting, grief, fear, overwhelm—please know this:

You don’t need to solve your whole life today.
You don’t need to feel hopeful to keep going.
You just need to take the next kind, steady step.

That’s enough for now.

And if today all you did was survive it with some level of care—for yourself or someone else—then you did more than you think.

You’re not alone in this. You can also check out Parenting when the World Hurts